THE  RANCH  GIRLS  SERIES 


Tke  Ranch  Girls'  Pot  ol  Gold 


I 

BOOKS  BY  MARGARET  VANDERCOOK 

THE  RANCH  GIRLS  SERIES 

THE  RANCH  GIRLS  AT  RAINBOW  LODGE 
THE  RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD 
THE  RANCH  GIRLS  AT  BOAHDING  SCHOOL 
THE  RANCH  GIRLS  IN  EUROPE 
THE  RANCH  GIRLS  AT  HOME  AGAIN 
THE  RANCH  GIRLS  AND  THEIR  GREAT  AD 
VENTURE 

THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  SERIES 

THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  IN  THE  BRITISH 

TRENCHES 
THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  ON  THE  FRENCH 

FIRING  LINE 

THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  IN  BELGIUM 
THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  WITH  THE  RUSSIAN 

ARMY 
THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  WI..H  THE  ITALIAN 

ARMY 
THE  RED  CROSS  GIRLS  UNDER  THE  STARS 

AND  STRIPES 

STORIES  ABOUT  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS 

THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  AT  SUNITSE  HILL 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  AMID  THE  SNOWS 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  IN  THE  OUTSIDE 

WORLD 

THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  ACROSS  THE  SEA 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS'  CAREERS 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  IN  AFTER  YEARS 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  IN  THE  DESERT 
THE  CAMP  FIRE  GIRLS  AT  THE  END  OF  THE 

TRAIL 


\ 


THE  OLD  WOMAN  MUMBLED  A  VERSE  OF  POETRY 


THE  RANCH  GIRLS  SERIES 

The  Ranch  Girls' 
Pot  of  Gold 


MARGARET  VANDERCOOK 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 
HUGH  A.   BODINE 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  COMPAIC? 


PRINTED  IN    U.   S.  A. 


?5 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN 9 

II.    THE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON 26 

III.  CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP 37 

IV.  THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY 46 

V.    MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE 61 

VI.    A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE 76 

VII.    "A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS" 87 

VIII.    ALONG  THE  ROAD 102 

IX.     "MINER'S  FOLLY" 115 

X.    BY  THE  WAYSIDE  TENT 130 

XL    "WHERE'S  JACK?" 141 

XII.    CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD 152 

.   XIII.    ENTERING  WONDERLAND 163 

XIV.  MR.  DRUMMOND  AND  RALPH  CHANGE 

PLACES 174 

XV.  ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION —    182 

XVI.     "OLD  FAITHFUL" 196 

XVII.    THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS 205 

XVIII.  "GREATER  LOVE  HATH  No  MAN"  .     .  216 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.    THE  SUSPENSE  AND  WHAT  HAPPENED 

AFTERWARDS 229 

XX.    FRANK  AND  JACK 242 

XXI.     "Mr  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE" 258 

XXII.    A  PARTY  AT  THE  RANCHO 268 

XXIII.  "THEIR  LAST  RIDE  TOGETHER" 277 

XXIV.  FAREWELL  TO  THE  RAINBOW  RANCH  . .  287 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE  OLD  WOMAN  MUMBLED  A  VERSE  OF 
POETRY Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"  I  DECLARE,  I  FEEL  LIKE  I  HADN'T  SEEN  You 
IN  A  HUNDRED  YEARS  !" 53 

"How  COULD  You,  Miss  BRUCE?"  RALPH 
DEMANDED  INDIGNANTLY 144 

"THERE  Is  GOLD  IN  RAINBOW  CREEK,  JACK!"  .     253 


The  Ranch  Girls'  Pot  of  Gold 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   GYPSY   CARAVAN 

A  HUNDRED   dollars  a  month— it's   a 
fortune!"  Jean  Bruce  exclaimed  gayly, 
pirouetting  about  on  her  tip-toes  in 
front  of  a  huge  Japanese  umbrella  fastened 
upright  in  the  ground  in  the  middle  of  the 
orchard  at  the  Rainbow  Ranch. 

Jacqueline  Ralston  gazed  half  convinced 
at  the  sheet  of  paper  she  held  in  her  hand. 
She  was  sitting  in  Turkish  fashion  on  the  grass 
just  outside  the  umbrella  and,  as  her  Mexican 
hat  had  been  flung  aside,  the  spring  sun  shone 
directly  down  on  the  bright  bronze  of  her  hair 
and  warmed  to  a  richer  rose  the  brilliant 
color  in  her  cheeks.  The  past  few  months 
had  wrought  little  change  in  her,  save  that 

(9) 


10          &ANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

the  lifting  of  the  clouds  from  about  her  home 
had  left  her  more  radiant  and  full  of  purpose 
than  ever  before. 

"I  don't  know  whether  it  is  an  opportunity 
or  not/'  she  answered  dreamily.  "What 
do  you  think,  dears?"  she  inquired  of  a  young 
woman  who  was  watching  the  steam  pour 
forth  from  a  brass  teakettle,  and  of  a  quiet, 
dark-haired  girl  who  sat  near  by  contentedly 
embroidering  a  square  of  linen. 

Olive  hesitated  for  a  moment,  looking 
toward  their  chaperon,  but  Ruth  was  too 
busy  with  the  teakettle — which  had  chosen 
that  moment  to  boil  over — to  have  time  to 
reply.  "I  know  a  hundred  dollars  a  month 
does  sound  like  a  great  deal  of  money," 
Olive  agreed  slowly,  "but  I  wonder  what  the 
people  are  like  who  wish  to  rent  our  ranch. 
And  where  can  we  go  if  we  give  up  our  house 
to  them?" 

Jack  shook  her  head  uncertainly,  but  Jean 
flung  out  both  arms  in  an  imploring  gesture, 
and  a  beseeching  expression  softened  her 
merry  brown  eyes.  "Where  could  we  go? 
Why,  haven't  we  the  whole  round  world  to 
choose  from? ' '  she  demanded  pleadingly.  ' '  And 
don't  the  very  breezes  call  us  to  follow  them 
in  search  of  adventure?  Oh,  I  can  feel  the 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  11 

spring  Wanderlust  in  in?  blood  this  very 
minute.  Cousin  Ruth,  Jack,  Olive,  please 
agree  with  me  or  I  can't  bear  it.  Surely 
you  must  see  that  this  letter  from  Mrs.  Post's 
friends,  who  want  Rainbow  Lodge  for  the 
summer,  is  just  heaven  sent.  We  were 
dying  to  take  a  trip  and  now  we  can  go  every 
where — or  just  somewhere,  I  don't  care  where, 
because  we  have  never  been  anywhere  in  our 
lives."  And  Jean  paused  only  because  she 
was  out  of  breath  and  not  because  of  the 
laughter  that  greeted  her  peculiar  form  of 
eloquence. 

The  three  ranch  girls  and  their  chaperon, 
Ruth  Drew,  were  having  an  impromptu  tea 
party  all  to  themselves  in  their  miniature 
orchard  on  a  lovely  May  day.  Their  fruit 
trees  were  not  yet  large  enough  for  shade. 
Indeed,  at  the  present  time  they  looked  like 
glorified  bouquets  set  on  tall,  slender  stalks, 
their  branches  were  so  small,  so  fragrant  and 
so  covered  with  delicate  fairylike  blossoms. 
The  cherry  and  plum  trees  were  in  full  bloom 
and  the  pink  buds  on  the  apple  trees  were 
slowly  uncurling,  while  on  every  side  the 
level  prairie  fields  were  carpeted  with  new 
grass  that  rippled  softly  under  the  low  winds 
like  the  surface  of  a  quiet  sea. 


12          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"  Girls,  I  don't  want  to  be  a  wet  blanket 
and  I  am  afraid  you  will  think  7  am  a  dis 
couraging  person/'  Ruth  interposed,  passing 
around  her  teacups,  "but  I  don't  believe  we 
could  do  much  traveling  on  a  hundred  dollars 
a  month.  I  am  awfully  sorry,  Jean,  to 
disappoint  you,  but  you  must  remember  that 
railroad  journeys  are  terribly  expensive  and 
we  would  have  to  board  somewhere  when  we 
were  not  on  trains." 

"All  right,  Ruth,"  Jack  assented,  looking 
half  relieved  and  half  disappointed,  as  she 
folded  up  her  letter.  "I'll  write  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Harmon  to-night  and  refuse  their  offer 
for  the  ' Lodge.'" 

Jean  sighed  as  though  she  had  no  further 
joy  in  living  and  Ruth  shook  her  head. 
"No,  Jack,  don't  write  your  letter  quite  yet," 
she  advised.  "Let's  talk  things  over  again 
before  we  finally  decide.  But  I  do  wish  Frieda 
would  come  with  the  cookies;  it  seems  so 
hateful  to  have  tea  without  her.  I  can't 
imagine  what  has  kept  her  so  long." 

Tearing  across  the  yard  that  divided  the 
Lodge  from  the  ranch  orchard  came  a  round, 
chubby  girl,  with  her  blond  pigtails  flying 
straight  out  behind  her  and  her  cheeks  a 
bright  red  from  excitement.  She  had  a  big 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  13 

dish  of  gingercakes  in  her  hands,  but  as  she 
ran  she  scattered  them  behind  her  like  little 
"Hop  o'  My  Thumb "  did  his  poor  crumbs 
of  bread. 

'  'Oh,  do  come  to  the  house  quick!  The  most 
loveliest  thing  has  happened!"  she  cried 
fervently.  "A  band  of  gypsies  was  traveling 
across  the  plains  and  they  have  stopped  right 
at  our  house,  and  say  that  if  we  will  give  them 
some  food  and  water  they  will  tell  all  our 
fortunes.  There  is  a  man  and  a  girl  and  an 
old  woman  and  the  cunningest  baby!" 

Frieda  flung  her  small  self  on  Jean,  and  with 
out  another  word  the  two  girls  rushed  off 
toward  the  house,  while  Ruth  and  Jack  and 
Olive  gathered  up  the  despised  tea  things 
and  followed  them  more  slowly,  munching  the 
long  desired  cookies. 

Drawn  up  near  the  back  porch  at  Rainbow 
Lodge  was  a  rickety  old  canvas-top  wagon 
pulled  by  two  ancient  and  sadly  dilapidated 
horses,  and  seated  in  state  at  a  table  not  far 
away  were  Frieda's  band  of  gypsies  being 
generously  fed  by  Aunt  Ellen. 

Ruth  and  Olive  walked  toward  their  unex 
pected  visitors,  but  Jack  in  her  usual  impetu 
ous  fashion  ran  up  to  the  horses  and  began  to 
take  off  the!"  harness.  " Uncle  Zack,  please 


14          RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

come  here  at  once;  these  poor  horses  are 
nearly  dead/'  she  called  quickly.  "Some 
one  will  have  to  help  me.  I  am  afraid  I  can't 
look  after  them  both,  for  they  can  scarcely 
stand  up."  But  Uncle  Zaek,  the  old  colored 
servant  of  the  ranch  house,  was  not  within 
sound  of  Jack's  voice  and  the  girls  were  too 
much  interested  in  the  gypsies  to  heed  her. 

The  old  horses  had  great  sagging  places 
under  their  hips;  the  muscles  beneath  their 
worn  coats  quivered  and  jerked  with  fatigue; 
their  eyes  were  bloodshot  and  their  breath 
came  in  long,  quivering  sighs. 

Jacqueline  Ralston  was  a  ranch  girl  who  had 
been  brought  up  to  love  horses  since  she  was  a 
tiny  baby,  and  she  cared  for  them  so  intensely 
that  nothing  stirred  her  like  the  sight  of  them 
ill  used.  Now,  heedless  of  all  else,  she  softly 
patted  and  talked  to  the  two  horses,  lifting 
off  a  part  of  their  ragged  harness;  then 
suddenly  turning,  discovered  their  gypsy 
driver  calmly  eating  a  comfortable  dinner. 
Jack's  eyes  flashed  and  the  hot  blood  surged 
to  her  cheeks. 

"Come  see  to  your  horses,"  she  ordered 
sharply.  "What  do  you  mean  by  resting  and 
eating  while  your  horses  suffer?  Even  a 
tenderfoot  knows  better  than  to  be  so  stupid 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  15 

and  good  for  nothing.  I  thought  a  gypsy  had 
more  sense.'7  The  young  girl  turned  away 
her  flushed  face  as  she  finished  speaking,  for  a 
lump  was  rising  in  her  throat,  and  she  had  seen 
the  gypsy  man  get  up  from  the  table  and 
start  over  toward  her  with  his  guitar  swung 
jauntily  over  his  shoulder  and  a  supercilious 
smile  on  his  lips. 

"  Don't  worry  about  my  horses,  young 
lady/'  he  remarked  indifferently.  "  If  they  were 
worth  anything  I  would  look  after  them  better, 
but  they  are  worn-out  old  brutes  and  won't 
be  fit  for  use  much  longer."  Without  any 
excuse  the  man  gave  the  nearer  horse  a 
brutal  kick  that  made  it  stagger  with  pain, 
and  struck  the  other  with  the  palm  of  his 
hand. 

"By  the  way,"  he  remarked,  "I'm  not  a 
gypsy,  as  you  suppose,  though  I  happen  to 
be  married  to  one  and  running  this  particular 
outfit." 

Jack  saw  everything  spin  around  for  half  a 
second — she  was  so  angry  with  the  man  for  his 
cruelty — but  she  managed  to  speak  with 
dignity.  "If  you  do  another  unkind  thing  to 
your  horses  I  shall  ask  our  overseer,  Jim 
Colter,  to  make  you  leave  our  ranch,"  she 
declared  firmly.  "Of  course  I  see,  now  you 


16          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

are  nearer,  that  you  are  not  a  gypsy."  Jack 
frowned,  puzzled  by  the  tramp's  unusual 
appearance.  His  hair  was  light  brown,  his 
eyes  blue  and  his  features  refined  and  delicate, 
although  his  expression  was  crafty  and  his 
mouth  weak  and  selfish.  Oddly  enough,  in 
spite  of  his  unkempt  clothing,  it  was  plain 
he  had  been  born  a  gentleman. 

Abruptly  changing  his  careless  manner  the 
man  took  off  his  hat  to  Jack.  "I  am  sorry  to 
have  offended  you,"  he  remarked  politely. 
"I  ought  to  know  better.  Is  Jim  Colter  the 
overseer  of  your  ranch?  I  have  heard  of  him 
often,  but  in  all  the  years  I  have  spent  in 
this  country  I  have  never  met  him.  I  came 
west  to  locate  a  gold  mine,  but  instead  of  my 
finding  one  these  gypsy  women  found  me 
starving  in  the  desert  and  took  care  of  me. 
So  I  married  the  girl  and  we  travel  around  in 
their  wagon;  it's  easier  than  walking.  I 
have  been  prospecting  for  gold  in  this  region 
lately.  Would  you  let  me  have  a  look  over 
your  ranch  before  I  move  on?  You  may  be 
grazing  your  cattle  above  a  gold  mine  this 
minute — it's  what  the  old  man  did  who 
once  owned  Cripple  Creek." 

The  man's  eyes  glowed  with  the  peculiar 
fanatical  glow  of  the  gold-seeker  and  Jack 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  17 

felt  a  thrill  of  excitement  as  she  watched  him, 
but  she  shook  her  head  sensibly.  And  at 
this  moment  Jim  Colter  appeared  strolling 
along  the  path  toward  them  from  the  stables 
back  of  the  Lodge.  His  hands  were  in  his 
pockets  and  he  was  whistling  cheerfully,  with 
an  inquiring  expression  in  his  friendly  blue 
eyes.  The  newcomer  did  not  see  him, 

"Want  any  help  with  your  animals, 
stranger?7'  Jim  inquired  hospitably,  as  he 
came  over  to  where  Jack  and  her  companion 
were  standing. 

The  other  man  swung  slowly  around  at  the 
sound  of  a  new  voice. 

Without  replying  he  stared;  stared  at 
Jim  so  long  that  Jack  wondered  what  had 
happened  to  keep  him  from  answering.  Then 
she  glanced  at  Jim — he  was  behaving  as 
strangely  as  their  visitor;  his  jaw  had  dropped 
and  his  eyes  darkened,  and  if  it  had  been 
anybody  but  Jim  Colter,  Jack  might  have 
thought  the  overseer  of  the  Rainbow  Ranch 
frightened. 

"Is  your  name  Jim  Colter?"  the  new  man 
inquired  curiously.  "I  think  I  have  seen 
you  before,  yet  I  don't  recollect  your  name. 
I'm  Joe  Dawson;  ' Gypsy  Joe7  is  what  I'm 
called  out  here.  Funny  name  for  a  man 


18          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

who  once  hailed  from  one  of  the  first  families 
in  'Ole  Virginie.'" 

Jim  picked  up  a  bucket  of  water  from  the 
ground,  in  order  to  gain  time.  "  Suppose  you 
join  the  other  girls  now,  Jack,"  he  suggested 
mildly.  "It  may  be  this  stranger  and  I  have 
met  before  and  will  have  a  few  questions  to 
ask  one  another.  Anyhow,  I  think  the  girls 
need  you  with  them." 

Jack  moved  off  obediently  and  discovered 
Olive  having  her  fortune  told.  She  was 
kneeling  before  the  old  gypsy  with  one  hand 
resting  in  the  woman's  wrinkled  palm. 

"You  are  not  one  of  these  little  missies. 
You  are  of  another  brood  and  another  for 
tune/'  the  old  crone  announced  calmly.  "I 
don't  say  I  am  able  to  place  you,  but  you 
don't  rightly  belong  here." 

Olive's  cheeks  flushed  indignantly  and  she 
dropped  her  lids  quickly  over  her  surprised 
eyes.  "I  don't  see  why  you  think  I  am  dif 
ferent  from  the  others.  I  am  one  of  the  ranch 
girls,"  she  exclaimed  earnestly. 

The  fortune  teller  smiled  and  lightly  ran 
one  aged  finger  around  the  line  of  Olive's 
delicately  pointed  chin  and  about  her  long, 
almond-shaped  black  eyes.  "I  don't  think 
you  are  different,  child;  I  know  it,"  she  re- 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  1Q 

plied  sternly.  "It  ain't  no  use  to  try  to  de 
ceive  me.  I  can  see,  too,  that  life  ain't  going 
to  be  a  bed  of  roses  for  you.  Some  one  is 
standing  near  us  right  now  who  is  going  to 
exercise  a  strong  influence  over  your  fate. 
Many  times  she  will  help  you  to  happiness, 
but  once  she  will  cause  you  great  sorrow. 
She  may  never  know  it,  for  you  will  never 
tell  her,  but  remember — I  warn  you — 'years 
alone  will  wipe  away  your  tears." 

The  gypsy  lifted  her  small,  black,  haunting 
eyes  with  as  calm  an  assurance  as  though 
she  had  been  one  of  the  three  ancient  sisters 
of  fate  and  stared  long  and  imperiously  at 
Jacqueline  Ralston.  Jack  bit  her  lips  and 
returned  the  woman's  gaze  steadfastly. 

"If  you  mean  that  I  shall  ever  bring  sor 
row  upon  my  friend,  you  are  very  much  mis 
taken,"  she  protested  defiantly,  putting  her 
arm  lovingly  about  Olive.  "If  you  intend 
to  make  up  such  hateful  and  untrue  sto 
ries  you  shan't  tell  any  more  of  her  for 
tune." 

But  the  gypsy  gave  not  the  slightest  heed 
to  Jack's  remonstrance;  making  a  weird  sign 
across  the  palm  of  Olive's  hand  the  old  wo 
man  mumbled  a  verse  of  poetry,  the  girls 
straining  forward  to  hear : 


20          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"  'Criss,  cross,  shadow  and  loss; 

Shrouded  in  mystery, 

The  first  of  your  history! 

Here  there  is  light,  there  dark  once  again. 

Happiness  comes,  but  after  it  pain — 

Yet  your  name  shall  be  found  and  a  fortune  untold 

Shall  make  for  your  feet  a  rich  pathway  of  gold/  ' 

Olive  smiled  tremulously,  drawing  away 
her  hand.  "I  don't  believe  I  care  to  have 
my  future  foretold  in  poetry/'  she  protested. 
"  Won't  you  tell  Miss  Ralston  hers?  Perhaps 
you  may  give  her  a  better  fate." 

The  fortune  teller  did  not  like  the  scornful 
curve  to  Jack's  full  red  lips  nor  the  doubting, 
half-amused  expression  of  her  eyes.  The 
woman  had  recognized  at  once  that  this  girl 
was  not  to  be  so  easily  influenced  as  gentle 
Olive,  nor  as  merry  Jean,  nor  as  the  littlest 
maiden  with  the  two  blond  pigtails.  She 
was  even  more  difficult  than  the  oldest  girl 
of  them  all,  for  Ruth  had  made  no  effort  to 
conceal  her  surprise  at  the  queer  jumble  of 
truth  and  fiction  that  had  come  forth  in  the 
account  of  Olive's  history. 

Obediently  Jack  put  forth  her  strong, 
shapely  hand,  but  the  woman  did  not  touch 
it,  although  her  shrewd,  half-closed  eyes  never 
wandered  from  the  girl's  face. 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  21 

"Be  on  your  guard.  You  don't  wish  other 
people  to  do  anything  for  you/'  the  gypsy 
spoke  low  and  warningly.  "I  know  you  like 
to  help  them,  but  you  are  too  proud  to  want 
to  be  helped.  Some  day  something  you  little 
expect  is  going  to  happen  to  you  that  will 
make  you  have  to  depend  on  other  people 
for  a  long,  long  time."  All  at  once  the  wo 
man's  harsh  manner  changed  and  she  gazed 
at  her  listener  more  kindly.  1 1  You  are  fond  of 
this  ranch  and  would  like  to  spend  your  whole 
lifeonit,  wouldn't  you?"  she  questioned  keenly. 

Silently  Jack  bowed  her  head. 

"You  won't,"  the  fortune  teller  went  on 
solemnly;  "you  will  travel  over  a  great  part 
of  the  world  and  you  may  settle  in  a  strange 
land.  Anyhow,  I  can  see  that  you'll  marry 
and  have  sons  and " 

Jack  blushed  resentfully  and  the  gypsy's 
beady  eyes  twinkled,  for  she  was  a  good 
enough  judge  of  character  to  guess  the  elder 
Miss  Ralston's  views  on  matrimony,  merely 
by  observing  her  pride  and  reserve.  It  was 
true  that  Jack  had  vowed  to  the  other  girls 
a  hundred  times  that  nothing  and  nobody 
could  induce  her  to  marry;  she  had  more 
important  things  to  do. 

"Dear  me,  granny,  haven't  you  something 


22          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

pleasant  to  tell  somebody?"  Jean  interposed, 
coming  forward  for  her  turn  in  the  game. 

The  gypsy  frowned  severely.  "I  can  tell 
only  the  truth,"  she  protested  in  an  important 
tone.  "But  you  need  not  worry  yet  about 
your  future,  young  lady,  for  you  don't  take 
things  so  seriously  as  these  other  two  girls. 
Life  is  more  of  a  joke  to  you;  only  see  that 
you  don't  carry  your  joking  too  far." 

Jean  pouted,  jerking  away  her  hand,  and 
Ruth,  who  was  particularly  fond  of  Jean, 
interrupted  the  old  crone.  "Tell  our  smallest 
girl's  future  now,  auntie;  she  is  sure  to  have 
only  good  luck,"  she  interceded. 

The  gammer  smiled.  Frieda  had  taken  the 
gypsy  girl's  baby  and  was  cuddling  it  like 
a  wax  doll,  its  tiny  birdlike  face  contrasting 
oddly  with  her  pretty  plumpness. 

"The  youngest  lady  shall  have  a  fortune 
like  an  apple  pie,  it  shall  be  so  trim  and  neat 
and  nice  and  good  to  look  at  and  to  taste, 
with  plenty  of  sugar  and  kisses  in  it,"  the 
old  woman  chuckled  good  naturedly,  glancing 
kindly  at  happy  Frieda. 

Ruth  turned  quickly  around  and  smiled. 
At  this  moment  Jim  Colter  came  stalking 
across  the  yard  toward  them,  with  the  strange 
gypsy  at  his  heels,  and  Ruth  supposed  he 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  23 

wished  to  hear  the  girls'  fortunes.  But  Jim 
did  not  appear  interested  and  looked  at  Ruth 
so  queerly  that  she  was  afraid  he  was  angry. 
"  Shall  I  tell  you  your  future  now,  Miss?" 
the  gypsy  woman  demanded  slyly,  talking  to 
Ruth,  but  discerning  all  of  Jim's  six  feet  of 
shyness  arid  troubled  emotion  at  the  same 
time.  "I  can  see  a  great  change  coming  in 
your  life,  Miss/7  the  fortune  teller  went  on 
quickly.  "You  can  feel  it  stirring  in  you 
now,  but  you  won't  give  up  to  it.  You  are 
going  to  take  a  long  trip  and  you  are  going 

Whatever  the  gypsy  meant  to  say  Ruth 
did  not  wish  to  hear,  so  she  remarked  quickly: 
"Please  don't  tell  me  anything  of  my  fate. 
I — I  don't  like  to  have  my  fortune  told,"  she 
explained,  blushing  furiously.  She  felt  angry 
with  herself  for  her  absurdity,  as  Jim  was 
gazing  directly  at  her  across  the  circle  of 
listening  girls. 

"I  believe  you  have  told  us  all  quite  enough 
of  our  futures,  granny,"  Ruth  announced. 
"  We  are  going  to  leave  you  to  rest,"  and  she 
beckoned  to  the  ranch  girls  to  follow  her 
indoors. 

Jim  watched  them  until  the  last  fluttering 
petticoat  disappeared.  Then  he  and  "Gypsy 


24          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Joe"  walked  away  from  the  house  together. 
A  few  hours  later,  just  before  dusk,  the 
ranch  girls  were  in  the  big  living  room  of 
the  Lodge,  waiting  for  Ruth  to  come  in  and 
for  Aunt  Ellen  to  bring  in  supper,  when  there 
was  a  sound  of  wagon  wheels  along  the  road 
that  led  away  from  the  house  to  the  trail 
across  the  ranch.  Jean  danced  to  the  open 
window  and  signaled  to  Jack. 

The  gypsy  caravan  was  rolling  slowly  to 
ward  the  distant  plains.  A  delicate  purple 
mist  hung  over  the  world  and  the  wagon 
seemed  to  float  along  in  the  soft  evening  air; 
a  single  star  shone  over  the  travelers. 

Jean  pinched  Jack's  arm  until  she  gave  a 
cry  of  pain.  "What  is  it,  Jean?"  Jack  in 
quired  anxiously,  for  she  could  see  that  her 
cousin's  expression  was  curiously  grave  and 
that  her  eyes  were  shining  and  her  lips  tremb 
ling  with  eagerness. 

"Oh,  Olive,  Frieda,  do  come  here  and  look," 
Jean  called  pleadingly. 

Olive  slipped  her  hand  in  Jack's  and  Frieda 
put  her  arm  about  Jean's  waist  while  the  four 
girls  stood  gazing  wonderingly  at  the  moving 
wagon,  toward  which  Jean  was  pointing  with 
a  prophetic  finger. 

"Girls,    there   goes   our   way   to   see   the 


THE  GYPSY  CARAVAN.  25 

world/'  Jean  murmured  quietly.  "  There  is 
the  kind  of  private  car  I  would  rather  ride 
in  than  any  other  in  the  world,  and  we  own 
one  already." 

"What  is  the  matter,  Jean;  what  are  you 
talking  about?"  Jack  queried  quickly,  for 
she  could  see  that  Jean  was  not  joking,  but 
was  deeply  in  earnest. 

"I  mean  that  if  we  rent  Rainbow  Lodge 
this  summer  we  can  travel  about  in  a  car 
avan,"  Jean  returned  dreamily.  "We  can 
drive  over  miles  and  miles  of  our  beautiful 
prairies  and  see  the  great  canyons  and  forests; 
and  may  even  be  able  to  go  as  far  as  the 
Yellowstone  Park.  You  know  we  have  the 
wagon  and  plenty  of  horses  already,  and  with 
a  hundred  dollars  a  month — why,  we  can  feed 
on  nectar  and  ambrosia!  Wouldn't  you  just 
adore  a  caravan  trip,  girls?"  She  paused 
wistfully. 

"0  Jean!"  the  three  other  ranch  girls 
gasped  in  happy  chorus  as  the  full  rapture 
of  her  suggestion  swept  over  them. 

"Shsh!"  That  young  lady  put  a  warning 
finger  to  her  lips.  "Here  comes  Cousin 
Ruth;  don't  say  anything  to  her  yet.  Good 
ness  only  knows  how  we  will  be  able  to  make 
her  and  Jim  agree  to  our  beautiful  plan!" 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   SPELL  OF  THE  MOON 

THE  moon  rose  early  and  before  dinner 
was  over  its  pale  crescent  appeared 
overhead. 

The  ranch  girls  were  unusually  restless. 
Jean  especially  was  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp, 
never  still  for  an  instant.  "Do  let's  go  out 
for  a  walk;  I  feel  as  if  I  should  stifle  indoors/' 
she  begged. 

"Isn't  it  too  cool?"  Ruth  objected  faintly. 
"  Remember  how  great  a  change  always  comes 
here  at  night,  no  matter  how  warm  the  days 
have  been.  I  should  think  the  sudden  cool 
ness  in  the  evening  would  be  awfully  trying 
for  travelers  on  the  prairies.77 

Jean  cast  a  tragic  glance  at  their  chaperon. 
"Oh,  no,  Cousin  Ruth,  I  assure  you  the 
nights  on  the  plains  are  simply  glorious! 
You  just  can't  imagine  how  wonderful  it  is 
in  the  summer  time,  after  the  hot  days,  to 
feel  the  delicious  cool  breezes  spring  up  and 
blow  softly  over  you,  while  you  lie  out  in  the 

(26) 


THE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON.  27 

darkness  facing  the  stars, "  she  ended  breath 
lessly. 

Ruth  laughed  and  slipped  on  her  coat. 
"You  talk  like  a  tramp,  Jean,  dear.  When 
have  you  ever  spent  your  days  and  nights 
out  of  doors? "  she  queried. 

"Oh,  lots  of  times.  When  Jack  and  I 
were  little  girls  uncle  used  to  take  us  camp 
ing  with  him,"  Jean  answered  indifferently, 
not  daring  to  trust  herself  to  glance  at  the 
other  girls. 

The  night  was  delicious  and  Jean's  and 
Frieda's  violet  beds  near  Rainbow  Lodge 
were  adding  an  unaccustomed  fragrance  to 
the  desert  air. 

"Let's  walk  down  to  the  rancho.  I  should 
like  to  ask  Jim  why  he  sent  those  gypsies 
away  so  soon  this  afternoon,  even  before  their 
horses  had  time  to  rest,"  Jack  proposed  care 
lessly. 

Jean  and  Jack  each  slipped  a  hand  in 
Ruth's,  as  they  set  out  for  their  stroll,  for 
she  was  far  more  timid  than  any  one  of  the 
ranch  girls;  and  Olive  and  Frieda  followed 
close  behind.  Near  the  rancho,  where  Jim 
and  the  cowboys  lived,  a  sound  of  singing 
and  the  low  scrape  of  a  fiddle,  greeted  them. 

Jack  put  her  fingers  to  her  lips  and  gave 


28          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

their  familiar  whistle,  but  Jim  did  not  an 
swer;  then  Jean  joined  in,  and  the  four  girls 
finally  whistled  in  unison. 

A  man's  figure  appeared  at  the  front  door 
of  the  rancho.  He  was  one  of  the  cowboys, 
who  explained  that  Jim  had  disappeared  im 
mediately  after  dinner  without  a  word  to 
anyone  and  no  one  knew  where  he  had 
gone  nor  when  he  meant  to  return. 

On  their  way  back  to  the  Lodge  Ruth 
happened  to  glance  idly  across  one  of  the 
near-by  alfalfa  fields  and  saw  the  figures  of 
two  men  plainly  silhouetted  against  the  horizon. 
One  of  them  she  recognized  as  Jim  Colter. 

"  There  is  Mr.  Colter  over  there  talking  to 
some  one,  girls/ '  Ruth  declared. 

"  Then  let's  walk  over  in  his  direction.  Jim 
will  soon  see  us  coming  and  join  us/'  Jack 
suggested. 

But  Jim  apparently  did  not  see  the  girls 
approaching  him,  he  was  so  deeply  engaged 
in  conversation.  Once  he  raised  his  arm  as 
though  he  meant  to  strike  the  man  with 
him,  but  a  moment  later  his  arm  dropped 
limply  at  his  side.  Frieda  laughed  aloud,  for 
the  two  black  shadows  looked  like  huge  dolls. 

"I  think  we  had  better  turn  toward  home, 
children,"  Ruth  proposed  hurriedly.  "I  don't 


HIE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON.  29 

believe  Mr.  Colter  is  going  to  look  toward  us 
and  I  don't  think  he  will  want  to  be  inter 
rupted  if  he  does."  But  at  this  moment  the 
man  with  Jim  slipped  quietly  away  in  the 
darkness  and  Jim  strode  forward  to  Ruth 
and  the  ranch  girls.  It  was  impossible  to 
see  his  face  clearly,  but  it  was  evident  there 
was  something  most  unusual  in  his  bearing — • 
a  subtle  change  that  could  be  felt  rather  than 
seen. 

"What  are  you  doing,  Miss  Drew,  wander 
ing  around  at  this  hour  of  the  night  with  the 
girls?  I  am  surprised  at  you,"  Jim  said 
harshly.  "  There  is  no  telling  what  danger 
you  may  get  into."  Jim's  voice  was  so  hot 
with  anger  and  impatience  that  his  audience 
was  silent  from  sheer  amazement.  It  was 
impossible  to  believe  that  he  was  speaking  to 
Ruth  in  such  a  fashion,  when  always  before 
he  had  treated  her  as  a  queen  who  could  do 
no  wrong. 

Ruth  was  glad  of  the  darkness,  for  her 
cheeks  were  flushing  and  her  heart  beat  un 
evenly.  For  a  moment  the  tears  gathered 
in  her  eyes,  but  they  were  blinked  back  in 
dignantly.  Why  should  she  care  because  the 
overseer  of  the  ranch  was  rude  to  her?  She 
had  always  believed  that  Jim  Colter  was  not 


30          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

a  gentleman  and  now  felt  sure  of  it.  But 
why  did  not  this  conviction  make  her  able 
to  answer  Jim  as  he  deserved,  and  why  should 
she  feel  so  unhappy?  Ruth  knew  in  her 
heart  of  hearts  that  she  was  not  being  honest 
with  herself.  In  her  six  months  in  the  West 
she  and  Jim  had  become  good  friends.  There 
were  other  standards  of  life  than  those  of 
her  school  teaching  days  in  Vermont.  Pre 
tend  as  she  would,  a  man  could  be  a  gentle 
man  and  yet  wear  strange  clothes  and  use 
queer  English.  But  that  Jim  could  fail  in 
any  other  particular  Ruth  had  not  believed 
possible  until  now. 

Jean  and  Jack  were  as  bewildered  as  their 
chaperon.  For  some  time  they  had  suspected 
that  Jim  was  more  interested  in  Ruth  than 
he  would  let  them  know.  Certainly  the  poor 
fellow  was  doing  his  best  to  improve  his 
English,  for  Jean  had  dived  into  his  coat 
pocket  one  day  in  search  of  the  mail  and 
had  brought  forth  instead  a  discarded  Eng 
lish  grammar  which  Jim  had  been  studying 
surreptitiously. 

"Why  Jim,  how  silly  you  are!"  Jack  ex 
claimed  at  last  to  relieve  the  painful  silence. 
"Why  do  you  mind  our  taking  a  walk  to 
night?  You  know  we  often  do,  and  we  haven't 


THE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON.  31 

been  far.  There  is  nothing  that  could  hap 
pen  to  us." 

Frieda  slipped  her  soft  little  hand  inside 
Jim's  big,  strong  one,  and  he  strode  on  ahead 
with  her  and  Olive.  "  Don't  you  ever  be 
too  sure  of  not  getting  into  mischief,  Jack 
Ralston/7  he  called  back. 

"We  only  went  to  the  rancho  to  look  for 
you,  Jim/'  Jack  replied  lightly.  "I  wanted 
to  ask  you  why  you  sent  those  gypsies  away 
from  the  ranch  so  soon  this  afternoon.  I 
didn't  care  about  the  people  and  I  hated  the 
man,  but  the  poor  horses  were  so  tired  I 
thought  you  would  let  them  stay  all  night 
so  the  horses  could  rest." 

"  Miss  Ralston,  am  I  running  this  ranch,  or 
are  you?"  Jim  demanded  angrily.  "When  I 
see  a  pack  of  tramps  getting  ready  to  take 
up  their  residence  with  us,  have  I  the  right 
to  send  them  away,  or  must  I  ask  your 
leave?"  The  overseer's  tone  was  wrathful. 
He  knew  just  how  angry  Ruth  was  with  him 
and  now  Jack  would  be  equally  offended; 
but  fate  had  played  Jim  Colter  such  a  strange 
trick  in  the  last  few  hours  that  he  did  not 
care  what  he  said  or  did. 

Frieda's  surprised  "Oh!"  was  the  first  word 
spoken.  A  few  seconds  later  Jack  faltered, 


32          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"I  am  sure  I  beg  your  pardon,  Jim;  I  didn't 
mean  to  question  your  right  to  do  whatever 
you  think  best."  Jack's  voice  trailed  off 
brokenly  and  Ruth  gave  her  an  indignant 
and  sympathetic  squeeze.  Jean  slipped 
around  on  the  other  side  of  Jack,  and  if  Jim 
could  have  been  injured  by  burning  glances 
he  must  have  perished  on  the  spot,  for  Jean's 
brown  eyes  and  Ruth's  darted  flashes  of 
lightning  at  his  broad  back. 

At  the  Lodge  door  Jack  slipped  awa}T  from 
the  others.  Jim  saw  her  start  and  made  a 
step  toward  her,  but  before  he  could  speak 
she  had  vanished,  with  Olive  following  her. 
Neither  Ruth  nor  Jean  would  ask  Jim  to  bq 
seated,  and  Frieda  was  too  sleepy  to  think, 
yet  Jim  lingered  calmly  on  the  porch.  "  Don't 
you  think  we  had  better  go  indoors?  It's  fairly 
cool,"  he  said  at  length. 

Ruth  drew  her  coat  closer  about  her  and 
sank  into  a  chair.  "No,  I  don't  care  to  go 
in,"  she  replied  coldly.  Jean  took  Frieda's 
hand  and  faced  Jim  boldly.  "Jim  Colter, 
there  is  something  the  matter  with  you  to 
night,"  she  said.  "I  don't  know  what  it  is, 
but  you  were  rude  to  Cousin  Ruth  and  horrid 
to  Jack,  and  if  I  were  in  their  places  I  wouldn't 
speak  to  you." 


THE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON.  33 

The  light  from  the  big  porch  lantern  shone 
full  on  Jim's  strong,  sun-tanned  face.  Jean 
and  Ruth  were  both  surprised  at  the  change 
in  his  expression,  for  suddenly  he  looked  like 
a  repentant  boy.  "I  say,  Jean,  do  tell  Jack 
for  me  that  I  am  awfully  sorry  I  was  such 
a  beast  to  her  to-night,"  he  pleaded.  "Tell 
her  I  really  didn't  think  for  a  minute  that 
she  meant  any  interference  by  her  question. 
I  was  a  bit  upset  and  I " 

Jean  shook  her  head  severely.  "I  shall 
not  apologize  to  Jack  for  you,  Jim  Colter, 
so  you  just  needn't  ask  me/7  she  answered 
cruelly.  "You  were  a  wretch  to  her  and 
you've  hurt  her  feelings  dreadfully.  You  can 
do  your  own  apologizing." 

"But  I  won't  see  Jack  again  to-night, 
Jean,  and  I  can't  have  her  go  to  bed  thinking 
hardly  of  me,"  Jim  expostulated. 

Jean  glanced  up  at  him  demurely.  She  was 
an  artful  young  person  and  it  had  just  oc 
curred  to  her  that  it  might  be  a  good  idea 
to  get  Mr.  Colter  under  her  thumb  by  doing 
him  a  favor.  She  had  not  been  able  to  speak 
to  Ruth  and  Jim  of  her  plan  for  the  summer 
that  evening,  but  she  was  only  awaiting  an 
opportunity. 

"If  I  make  up  with  Jack  for  you,  Jim, 


34          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

will  you  promise  to  listen  to  something  we 
have  to  tell  you  in  the  morning  and  not  say 
it  is  utterly  impossible  before  you  even  know 
what  it  is?"  Jean  demanded. 

Jim  groaned,  though  his  eyes  twinkled. 
"Go  to  bed,  Jean  Bruce.  I'll  not  make  you 
any  rash  promise,  for  there  is  no  telling  what 
you  mean  to  let  me  in  for,"  he  answered. 

Jean  gave  her  head  a  toss.  "Oh,  very 
well,  Jim;  just  as  you  like,"  she  agreed 
suavely.  "Only  I  suppose  you  saw  poor 
Jack  was  crying  when  she  went  indoors,  and 
she  doesn't  cry  once  in  a  thousand  years,  so 
I  am  sure  she  will  have  a  headache  in  the 
morning  and  not  be  able  to  speak  to  you." 

"I  surrender,  Jean,"  Jim  replied  meekly, 
holding  up  both  hands.  "I  will  listen  to 
anything  you  have  to  say  in  the  morning 
if  you  will  make  my  peace  with  Jack  to 
night.  I  must  have  hurt  her  feelings  if  she 
was  crying,  for  I  have  seen  her  nearly  kill 
herself  a  dozen  times  and  never  shed  a  tear." 

The  last  of  Mr.  Colter's  speech  was  ad 
dressed  to  Miss  Drew  alone,  for  Jean,  having 
gotten  her  own  way,  had  hurried  Frieda  off 
to  bed. 

Jim  sank  down  comfortably  on  the  porch 
steps  and  took  off  his  big  Stetson,  as  though 


THE  SPELL  OF  THE  MOON.  35 

he  did  not  mean  to  leave  just  yet.  Ruth 
yawned  openly  once  or  twice,  but  still  her 
guest  showed  no  intention  of  going.  She 
frowned  at  him  coldly,  but  he  was  not  look 
ing  at  her. 

Jim  had  sent  an  emissary  to  make  his 
peace  with  Jack;  but  he  had  made  no  pre 
tense  of  apologizing  to  her,  and  every  bit  of 
Ruth's  New  England  pride  was  up  in  arms. 
Yet  there  was  no  doubt  that  Jim  did  look 
very  handsome  as  he  lingered  on  the  steps 
in  the  moonlight.  Ruth  tried  to  convince 
herself  that  it  was  only  his  western  costume 
that  was  picturesque,  the  soft  shirt  with  the 
loose  handkerchief  knotted  at  the  throat. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  think,  Miss  Drew, 
that  Jack  and  I  have  ever  quarreled  before 
about  who  was  the  boss  of  this  ranch/'  Jim 
explained  regretfully.  "To  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  am  a  good  deal  worried  about  some 
thing  and  it  has  turned  me  into  a  bear." 
Jim  rose  up,  smiling  gently  at  Ruth.  "I 
expect  I  had  better  be  going/'  he  said.  "I 
am  sorry  I  was  rude  to  you  too  to-night,  but 
I  will  wear  sackcloth  and  ashes  with  pleasure 
to-morrow  if  you  will  only  forgive  me,  and 
I  can  find  them  anyways  handy  about  the 
ranch."  Jim  laughed  and  bent  over,  sud- 


36          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

denly  taking  Ruth's  hand  in  his  to  say 
good  night,  and  she  could  but  wonder  if  it 
was  because  he  was  so  big  and  strong  that 
he  held  it  in  such  a  tight  grip. 


CHAPTER  III 

CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP 

JEAN  and  Jack  and  Olive  were  cantering 
slowly  through  the  fields  about  an  hour 
before  breakfast  the  next  morning.  The 
spring  air  was  so  delicious  that  they  had  not 
been  able  to  resist  it.  Jack  had  waked  before 
dawn  and  had  kept  quite  still  to  listen  to 
the  silvery  song  of  the  wood  thrush  outside 
her  bedroom  window;  she  had  not  wished 
to  go  to  sleep  again,  for  her  mind  was  too 
busy  with  Jean's  plan  for  their  summer  holi 
day.  When  daylight  came  Jean  was  aroused 
by  the  noise  of  Jack's  movements  in  the  room, 
and  opened  her  eyes  to  find  her  cousin  slip 
ping  into  her  riding  clothes.  She  too  was 
eager  for  a  ride,  and  when  they  softly  called 
to  Olive  to  join  them  the  three  girls  stole 
out  together. 

"  Jack,  you  will  have  to  broach  the  subject 
of  our  caravan  trip  to  Jim  to-day;  I  am  sure 
you  will  be  all  powerful,"  Jean  suggested,  as 
soon  as  they  were  fairly  on  their  way.  "The 

(37) 


38          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

more  I  am  out  of  doors  the  more  I  think  of 
how  utterly  rapturous  it  will  be  to  spend  our 
summer  in  traveling  around  and  camping 
wherever  we  like.  Tell  Olive  and  me  some 
thing  about  the  people  who  want  to  rent  our 
ranch,  Jack/'  Jean  ended  curiously. 

Jack  shook  her  head  slowly.  "I  am  afraid 
I  don't  know  very  much  about  them,  Jean," 
she  answered.  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harmon  are 
New  York  people;  he  is  a  stock  broker  and 
they  are  friends  of  Mrs.  Post's  and  Laura's. 
Aunt  Sallie  does  not  know  them  personally, 
but  she  says  they  have  one  son  and  a  daughter. 
The  daughter  is  lame  and  an  invalid;  I  be 
lieve  they  want  to  bring  her  out  west  to  see 
what  the  climate  will  do  for  her."  Jack 
gave  an  unconscious  shudder  of  horror  and 
sympathy  and  touched  her  pony  lightly  with 
her  whip.  The  girls  were  galloping  over  a 
part  of  the  ranch  that  was  carpeted  with 
wild  prairie  roses. 

"Where  are  we  going,  Jack?"  Olive  queried, 
riding  close  beside  her. 

"If  you  and  Jean  don't  mind,  Olive,  we 
are  going  over  on  the  other  side  of  Rainbow 
Creek,"  Jack  replied  apologetically.  "Jim 
and  one  of  the  men  set  a  trap  over  there  yes 
terday  to  catch  some  animal  that  has  been 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP.  39 

worrying  our  sheep.  You  know  I  don't  mind 
when  the  poor  thieves  are  killed  outright  for 
their  bad  behavior,  but  sometimes  they  catch 
their  legs  in  the  traps  and  nearly  pull  them  off/' 
Jack  flushed,  but  neither  Jean  nor  Olive 
smiled  at  her;  they  knew  that  she  was  like 
a  boy  in  many  ways  and  was  too  good  a 
sportsman  to  want  anything  to  suffer  un 
necessarily. 

The  girls  crossed  the  creek  at  a  spot  where 
the  water  was  lowest;  the  spring  rains  had 
fallen  and  it  was  quite  deep  in  many  places. 
They  rode  in  silence  along  the  familiar  path 
that  followed  the  creek  bed,  each,  in  her 
own  way,  yielding  her  senses  to  the  influence 
of  the  enchantment  that  the  rare  summer 
morning  had  created. 

Click!  click!  A  curious  noise  came  from 
somewhere  farther  down  the  bed  of  the  creek; 
it  seemed  to  sound  from  behind  a  huge  rock 
that  rose  up  alongside  the  stream  and  split 
into  a  small  ravine.  Click!  click!  The  sound 
was  repeated. 

Jack  reined  in  her  pony  so  suddenly  that 
Jean  almost  ran  into  her.  "  What  was  that?" 
Jack  asked  quickly,  but  Jean  put  her  finger 
cautiously  to  her  lips  and  signaled  for  silence. 

Click!  click!  click!     The  echo  was  louder 


40          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  more  puzzling,  and  Jack  slid  softly  off 
her  horse,  threw  the  reins  to  Olive  and  crept 
along  the  path  until  she  came  to  the  far  side 
of  the  great  rock.  The  noise  was  more  dis 
tinct,  but  still  she  could  see  nothing;  then 
she  clambered  up  the  rock  and  peered  over. 
A  man  stood  with  a  little  hammer  in  his* 
hand,  chipping  out  small  pieces  of  stone;  a 
big  pan  filled  with  sand  and  gravel  and  water 
from  Rainbow  Creek  was  resting  on  the 
ground  by  his  side. 

A  little  murmur  of  surprise  escaped  Jack, 
and  the  intruder  glanced  up  at  her;  he  had 
been  so  intent  on  his  work  and  so  sure  of 
not  being  discovered  at  that  hour  of  the 
morning  that  he  had  not  been  disturbed  by 
Jack's  approach. 

"So  it  is  you,  is  it?"  he  said  calmly.  "I 
hope  you  don't  mind  my  having  a  few  pieces 
of  these  rocks  as  a  souvenir  of  my  visit  to 
your  ranch.  I  know  you  and  your  overseer 
objected  to  my  prospecting  for  gold  about 
here.  That  is  the  reason  I  pretended  to 
drive  away  last  night." 

Jack  at  once  recognized  the  speaker  as  the 
driver  of  the  gypsy  caravan  of  the  day  be 
fore.  "I  don't  see  how  I  am  going  to  prevent 
your  having  the  stones  and  pebbles  now  that 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP.  41 

you  have  already  taken  possession  of  them," 
she  answered  indifferently.  "But  please  don't 
let  our  overseer  find  you  lurking  about,  or 
he  will  be  dreadfully  angry/' 

The  stranger  laughed  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders  carelessly,  and  Jack  noticed  that  he 
seemed  very  sure  of  himself.  "Oh,  don't 
you  worry  about  John,  Jim  Colter  I  mean," 
he  returned  coolly.  "I  am  not  afraid  of  him, 
though  I  won't  trouble  you  any  more  than  I 
can  help." 

"Did  you  ask  the  man  if  he  found  any 
signs  of  gold  in  our  creek,  Jack?"  Jean  de 
manded  eagerly,  as  the  three  girls  rode  off 
together  again. 

Jack  shook  her  head.  "No,  silly,  of  course 
I  didn't,"  she  replied.  "There  are  lots  of 
people  out  west  who  are  crazy  about  finding 
gold.  Don't  you  suppose  if  there  had  been 
any  gold  on  our  ranch  father  would  have 
made  the  discovery  years  ago?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Jean  returned  quietly. 
"But  you  might  have  asked  just  the  same." 

Jim  had  set  his  animal  trap  in  some  thick 
underbrush  and  covered  it  with  twigs  and 
evergreens,  but  Jack  remembered  the  exact 
spot,  and  the  girls  now  rode  directly  toward 
it.  Jack  carried  her  rifle  with  her,  for  if 


42          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

they  found  an  animal  that  had  been  caught 
and  not  killed  she  intended  to  put  it  out  of 
its  misery. 

Within  a  short  distance  of  the  trap,  but 
before  the  girls  could  see  it,  they  heard  a 
queer  moaning  that  made  them  turn  pale. 
The  cry  was  not  like  a  child's  and  not  like 
an  animal's;  it  was  a  queer  combination  of 
both. 

Jean  stopped  her  pony  instantly.  "I 
shaVt  go  on  any  farther  with  you,  Jack," 
she  declared  resolutely.  "Jim  has  caught 
something  in  that  wretched  trap  of  his  and 
it  is  suffering  horribly.  It  won't  do  any  good 
for  me  to  see  it.  Olive,  please  you  go  on  with 
Jack;  I  simply  can't,  I  am  such  a  wretched 
coward." 

Olive  and  Jack  both  looked  rather  miserable 
at  the  prospect  ahead  of  them,  but  Jack  would 
not  turn  back  and  Olive  would  not  desert  her. 
By  this  time  the  strange  sobbing  had  ceased 
and  there  was  no  further  sound  of  movement 
or  struggle  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  snare 
until  the  two  girls  rode  up  in  plain  sight  of  it. 

"Good  gracious,  Olive,  what  is  that?" 
Jack  called  quickly,  almost  falling  from  her 
horse  in  her  amazement. 

Instead  of  discovering  a  wild  animal  star- 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP.  4S 

ing  at  them  with  ferocious,  frightened  eyes, 
the  riders  spied  a  small,  brown  figure  crouched 
on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  wicked  steel 
cage,  as  mute  and  motionless  as  a  hare  when 
first  startled  by  a  hunter.  The  boy's  back 
was  turned  to  Olive  and  Jack  and  he  would 
not  condescend  even  to  look  around  at  his 
captors. 

Jack  guessed  at  once  what  had  happened. 
The  child  must  have  been  starving,  for  he 
had  thrust  his  arm  inside  the  opening  of  the 
trap  for  the  bait  that  had  been  put  inside, 
and  the  spring  had  closed  on  his  arm.  Both 
girls  ran  toward  him,  but  Jack  did  not  hear 
Olive's  quick  exclamation.  Fortunately  she 
knew  the  trick  of  opening  the  trap,  for  the 
moment  the  wires  released  their  cruel  hold 
on  the  boy,  he  fainted  quietly  in  Olive's  out 
stretched  arms.  He  was  about  ten  or  twelve 
years  old,  incredibly  thin,  with  coal-black 
hair  that  fell  in  straight  lines  to  his  shoulders, 
strange,  dark  eyes  with  the  look  of  far  places 
in  them,  and  a  skin  the  color  of  burnished 
copper. 

"It  is  Carlos,  little  Carlos!"  Olive  ex 
claimed  wonderingly.  "Jack,  don't  you  re 
member  my  telling  you  about  the  Indian  boy 
who  helped  me  to  come  home  to  you  when 


44          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

I  was  stolen  by  old  Laska?  I  wonder  how 
in  the  world  he  has  managed  to  find  us." 

Jack  did  not  wait  to  answer  Olive.  Run 
ning  at  once  to  the  creek  for  water,  she 
signaled  Jean  to  join  them,  and  together  the 
girls  bathed  the  boy's  face  until  he  returned 
to  consciousness. 

Then  Carlos  calmly  explained  to  Olive  that 
he  always  had  meant  to  find  her  some  day. 
With  her  image  ever  before  him  and  the  names 
of  the  Ralston  girls  and  the  Rainbow  Ranch 
ever  sounding  in  his  ears,  the  lad  had  re 
mained  quietly  in  the  desert  with  his  own 
people  until  the  coming  of  spring.  When 
the  nomad  tribe  started  south,  Carlos  had 
journeyed  with  them  until  they  again  struck 
camp,  then  he  had  traveled  on  alone,  asking 
hundreds  of  questions  and  covering  more 
miles  than  he  was  able  to  count.  Uncon 
scious  of  the  fact  he  had  come  at  length 
within  the  limits  of  Rainbow  Ranch,  and 
when  he  most  needed  her,  Olive,  like  a  good 
angel,  had  appeared  to  him.  Yet  Carlos  took 
her  coming  calmly.  Miracles  are  every-day 
occurrences  to  the  Indian.  Wiser  than  the 
wisest  of  us,  he  knows  that,  in  spite  of  all 
the  explanations  of  science,  the  rising  and 
the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  life  of  a  flower, 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAP.  45 

most  of  the  things  he  sees  in  his  world,  are 
nature's  miracles.  So  the  miracle  of  Olive's 
discovery  seemed  to  Carlos  only  another 
mysterious  gift  from  the  unknown  Father. 

Scorning  to  have  his  wounded  arm  band 
aged,  the  boy  soon  started  homeward  with 
the  girls.  Jim  and  Frieda  were  waiting  in 
front  of  the  Lodge  for  them  to  return  to  break 
fast.  Jim  laughed  and  Frieda  stared  when 
they  beheld  four  figures  on  horseback  instead 
of  three. 

"Well,  Jack,  who  is  your  latest  find?" 
Jim  called  out  cheerfully,  waving  his  hand  to 
Jack  in  token  of  peace  and  good  fellowship. 

The  horses  stopped,  and  the  Indian  boy 
slid  off  from  behind  Olive's  saddle  and  stood 
erect,  facing  Jim  squarely.  "I  am  Carlos, 
of  the  tribe  of  the  Blackfeet,"  he  answered 
proudly.  "Are  you  the  Big  Chief  of  this 
ranch?" 

Jim  Colter  shook  his  head  gravely,  although 
his  eyes  were  smiling.  "No,  I  am  Big  Chief 
of  nothing,  sonnie,"  he  replied  kindly.  "But 
you  had  better  come  into  the  house  with  me; 
that  is  an  uncommonly  ugly  wound  you  have 
on  your  arm,  and  I've  an  idea  you  might  be 
persuaded  to  eat  a  little  something." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   WAY  TO   ARCADY 

IT  can't  be,  Jim,  that  you  think  maybe 
we    will    be    able    to    carry    out    our 
scheme,"    Jean    murmured,    her    voice 
hushed   almost   into   a   whisper   from   sheer 
surprise.     She  held  her  fork  in  the  air,  hover 
ing  between  her  mouth  and  her  plate,  while 
the  other  three  girls  leaned  back  limply  in 
their  chairs  at  the  breakfast  table.     To  win 
a  battle  without  a  fight  when  all  your  forces 
are  drawn  up  for  action  is  unsettling. 

"Oh,  well,  I  didn't  exactly  say  I  would 
agree  to  this  caravan  trip,"  Jim  hedged. 
"I  don't  know  that  it  is  a  good  plan  for  you 
to  give  up  your  home  and  take  to  the  woods; 
but  I  did  say  that  the  idea  was  worth  con 
sidering  if  Miss  Ruth  favors  it.  The  thing 
that  troubles  me  most  is  who  is  to  be  the 
leader  of  this  female  cavalcade?"  Jim 
frowned  and  buttered  his  fourth  hot  biscuit. 
"  Don't  tell  me,  Jack  Ralston,  that  you  can 
go  it  alone,  for  you  can't.  It  is  a  good  thing 

(46) 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  47 

you  were  born  in  Wyoming,  the  first  state 
to  declare  for  woman's  suffrage,  for  if  ever 
I  met  a  real  natural  born  female  suffragette, 
it's  you.  There  isn't  a  thing  on  this  earth 
that  a  man  does  that  you  wouldn't  try  if 
you  could.  I  don't  know,  Miss  Drew,  but 
that  we  are  a  little  more  advanced  on  the 
woman  question  out  here  than  you  are  in 
Vermont,"  Jim  drawled  slowly.  "Kind  of 
seems  like  it  ought  to  help  reconcile  you  to 
living  among  us." 

Ruth  laughed  girlishly.  She  had  on  a  white 
pique  frock  and  looked  as  dainty  as  a  Dresden 
china  shepherdess;  she  had  plenty  of  color 
now  and  her  lips  had  lost  their  disapproving 
curve.  "I  don't  need  the  vote  to  reconcile 
me  to  living  with  the  ranch  girls,  Mr.  Colter," 
she  insisted  sweetly.  "  And  please  understand 
I  am  just  as  anxious  for  the  caravan  trip  as 
I  can  be." 

Jim  looked  thoughtfully  at  his  plate  with 
out  answering,  until  Jack  gave  a  little  tug 
at  his  sleeve.  "See  here,  Jim,  dear/'  she 
argued  quickly,  "even  I  haven't  suggested 
that  we  undertake  our  trip  without  a  man  for 
our  guide.  You  know  we  want  to  follow  one 
of  the  old,  almost  forgotten  trails  across  the 
state  to  the  Yellowstone  Park,  and  of  course 


48          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

we  don't  want  to  get  lost;  but  Jean  and  Olive 
and  I  planned  the  whole  thing  out  this  morn 
ing  just  perfectly.  We  know  some  of  the 
horses  we  want  to  take  with  us  and  we  have 
chosen  the  very  man  for  our  escort." 

Jim  shook  his  head  obstinately.  "You 
know  I  am  not  talking  against  the  boys  on 
our  ranch/7  he  answered  solemnly;  "they 
are  as  good  a  set  of  fellows  as  can  be  found 
anywhere  in  the  business.  But  there  isn't 
one  of  them  that's  fit  to  trust  with  the  finest 
girls  in  this  country.'' 

"Oh,  our  guide  is  all  right;  don't  worry 
about  him,  Jim,"  Jean  announced,  with  the 
calm  assurance  of  a  priestess  of  the  Delphic 
oracle.  "I  know  you  will  thoroughly  approve 
of  him  as  soon  as  you  hear  who  he  is."  Jean 
tried  her  best  to  wink  at  Ruth,  so  that  she 
might  guess  their  meaning,  but  Ruth  was 
completely  in  the  dark. 

"I  am  pretty  sure  not  to  approve  of  him, 
you  mean,"  Jim  interrupted  gloomily.  "I 
have  thought  of  every  man  on  the  place,  and 
there  isn't  one  of  them  I  would  even  con 
sider." 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is  one,  Jim;  just  one,  and 
you  haven't  thought  of  him  yet,"  Jack  argued 
unhesitatingly. 


THE  WAY  TO  AUCADY.  4£ 

Frieda  snickered,  Olive  smiled  and  Jean 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  but  Ruth  looked  as 
puzzled  as  Jim. 

"Well,  out  with  your  man's  name,  children/' 
Jim  demanded  firmly.  "You  must  not  set 
your  heart  on  this  excursion  until  I  know 
who  he  is.  I  am  sorry  now  that  I  ever  list 
ened  to  your  scheme." 

Jean,  who  was  sitting  next  Ruth,  leaned 
over  and  whispered  something  to  her,  and 
Ruth  gave  a  happy  laugh  and  then  blushed 
furiously  without  rhyme  or  reason. 

"Jim,  there  is  but  one  person  in  the 
world  we  want  to  go  with  us,  and  you  cer 
tainly  ought  to  know  who  he  is/7  Jack  sug 
gested  at  this  moment.  "Surely  you  know 
that  it's  you.  Of  course  it  couldn't  be  any 
one  else." 

"Me — me!"  Jim  Colter  exclaimed  help 
lessly,  the  tired,  thoughtful  expression  which 
his  brown  face  had  worn  all  morning  chang 
ing  suddenly  to  one  of  joy  at  Jack's  proposi 
tion.  "Why,  you  are  mad  as  a  March  hare, 
Miss  Ralston.  I  know  you  thought  of  rent 
ing  Rainbow  Lodge  for  the  magnificent  sum 
of  one  hundred  dollars  a  month,  but  I  took 
it  that  bargain  did  not  include  a  thousand  or 
more  acres  of  good  Wyoming  land,  and  I 


50          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

would  like  to  know  who  would  look  after 
the  ranch  while  I  was  away." 

"Oh,  Jim,  you  are  tiresome,"  Jean  pro 
tested.  "Do  you  think  the  ranch  would  go 
to  rack  and  ruin  if  you  left  it  for  a  little 
while?  You  know  one  of  the  other  men  could 
take  charge  of  things  for  you.  Why,  you 
haven't  taken  a  holiday  from  this  place  in 
2/ears,  and  when  you  went  away  last  time  I 
suppose  it  was  business,  for  you  never  said 
where  you  went  nor  what  happened  to  you 
while  you  were  away." 

Jim's  face  turned  so  red  that  Jack  was 
afraid  Jean's  idle  speech  had  hurt  his  feelings, 
for  he  probably  did  not  like  the  idea  that 
they  thought  anyone  as  capable  of  running 
their  ranch  for  them  as  he  was.  She  slipped 
away  from  her  place  at  the  table  and  put  her 
arm  over  Jim's  shoulder  as  simply  as  though 
she  were  six  instead  of  sixteen.  Jim  had 
always  been  a  kind  of  big  brother  to  the 
ranch  girls.  "Dear  old  Jim,"  Jack  whispered 
affectionately,  "  don't  be  offended.  Of  course, 
Jean  does  not  mean  that  anybody  can  really 
manage  the  ranch  except  you,  but  she  does 
think,  and  indeed  we  all  do — Cousin  Ruth 
most  of  all,  though  she  hasn't  said  anything 
yet — that  you  could  come  away  with  us  for 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  51 

a  while,  even  if  you  just  take  the  trip  with 
us  to  Yellowstone  Park  and  then  return  te 
the  ranch  as  you  think  best.  O,  Jimf" 
Jack's  words  tripped  over  each  other  in  her 
eagerness,  "you  know  you  would  love  our 
caravan  excursion  better  than  anything  in 
the  world!  It  was  just  because  you  knew 
how  much  you  would  adore  it  yourself  that 
you  agreed  so  readily  to  our  scheme  when 
we  proposed  it  to  you.  Don't  you  remember 
how  we  used  to  plot  and  plan  just  such  a 
journey  years  and  years  ago,  when  Jean  and 
Frieda  and  I  were  little  girls?  You  used  to 
tell  us  stories  about  your  long  ride  all  alone 
across  the  great  desert  when  you  had  no  one 
but  your  horse  for  company,  no  money,  no 
friends,  and  no  place  to  go  until  you  found 
us."  Jack  paused  for  an  instant. 

Jim  Colter  was  looking  out  the  window, 
but  his  eyes  were  not  on  the  landscape  before 
him. 

i  "Don't  you  recall,  Jim,  how  you  said 
that  even  then  you  learned  to  love  the  ro 
mance  of  the  silent  places,  even  the  great 
loneliness  that  made  you  feel  as  though  the 
world  were  created  just  for  you?"  Jack  went 
on  pleadingly.  "And  you  said  that  some  day 
you  would  take  us  for  a  trip  across  the  prairies, 


53          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  father  promised  that  we  might  go  when 
we  grew  up.  Now  everything  is  getting  so 
civilized  out  west,  do  let  us  start  on  our  pil 
grimage  while  there  is  some  of  the  wilderness 
left."  Jack's  next  words  to  her  friend  were 
spoken  in  such  a  low  tone  that  no  one  else 
could  guess  what  she  was  saying:  "I  think 
father  would  like  you  to  keep  the  promise 
to  us,  if  you  could,  Jim,  and  it  would  be  the 
most  wonderful  opportunity  in  the  world  for 
you  with  Ruth." 

Jim  gazed  slowly  about  the  group  of  girls 
without  the  least  indication  that  he  had 
understood  Jack's  suggestion.  "Well,  I  will 
think  things  over  for  a  few  days  and  kind 
of  see  how  the  land  lies,"  he  announced  aloud, 
"and  if  there  is  anybody  around  who  can 
look  after  the  ranch  for  me,  I  think  maybe 
I  had  better  see  that  you  don't  come  to 
harm." 

Jack  gave  Jim  a  little  shake  and  Jean 
pulled  him  up  from  the  breakfast  table. 
"Don't  talk  in  that  tiresome,  dutiful  fashion, 
Jim  Colter;  we  will  not  stand  it,"  Jean  pro 
tested;  "for  you  know  perfectly  well  that  you 
are  as  crazy  about  our  jaunt  as  the  rest  of 
us  and  you  wouldn't  miss  it  now  for  worlds!" 

The  entire  breakfast  party  had  gotten  up 


"I  DECLARE,  I  FEEL  LIKE  I  HADN'T  SEEN  You  IN  A 
HUNDRED   YEARS!" 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  53 

from  the  table  and  were  fluttering  about  the 
room.  A  little  pine  fire  burned  in  the  fireplace, 
but  the  windows  and  doors  were  wide  open. 
Some  one  walked  across  the  front  porch  and 
knocked,  and  when  no  one  answered,  fol 
lowed  the  sound  of  the  voices  indoors.  Frieda 
gave  the  first  exclamation  of  surprise  at  their 
visitor,  tripped  over  a  rocking  chair  in  run 
ning  to  him  and  landed  in  the  arms  of  Frank 
Kent.  "Oh,  I  am  glad  to  see  you!"  she  ex 
claimed  happily.  "Why,  we  thought  you 
were  at  home  in  England.  What  can  you 
be  doing  here?" 

"I  have  come  to  see  you,  Frieda,"  Frank 
answered  immediately,  "but  besides  you, 
every  single  other  person  at  the  Rainbow 
Ranch."  Frank  must  have  had  half  a  dozen 
arms  to  have  shaken  hands  with  all  his 
friends  in  the  room  at  the  same  time,  yet 
somehow,  in  spite  of  their  greetings,  he  man 
aged  to  give  both  his  hands  to  Jack  and  to 
grasp  hers  in  the  warm  friendliness  to  which 
she  was  accustomed  from  him. 

"I  declare,  I  feel  like  I  hadn't  seen  you  in 
a  hundred  years,"  he  said  simply;  "and  yet 
it  has  been  only  about  six  months." 

"What  are  you  doing  in  this  part  of  the 
world  again,  Mr.  Kent?"  Jim  Colter  inquired 


54          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

rather  coolly.  He  liked  Frank  Kent  well 
enough,  but  the  young  man  had  gone  home 
to  England,  when  the  affairs  of  the  ranch 
girls  were  safely  settled  with  his  cousin  Daniel 
Norton,  who  had  tried  to  steal  their  home 
from  them,  and  Jim  had  not  expected  nor 
desired  to  see  the  English  fellow  again.  He 
didn't  care  much  for  foreigners,  even  Anglo- 
Saxon  ones. 

"I  am  only  here  for  a  little  while,  Mr. 
Colter/'  Frank  Kent  explained,  answering  the 
question  in  Jim's  words  and  in  Jack's  eyes. 
"I  came  back  to  America  on  a  short  business 
trip.  My  father  heard  of  some  mines  in 
Colorado,  and  as  I  was  so  enthusiastic  about 
the  West  he  sent  me  out  to  investigate  them 
for  him.  As  Colorado  is  a  sister  state  to 
Wyoming,  I  had  to  slip  across  the  border, 
you  know,"  he  ended  shyly. 

Olive  had  let  every  one  else  in  the  room 
finish  their  welcome  to  Frank  Kent  before 
she  attempted  to  speak  to  him.  Now  she 
put  out  her  slender  hand  and  held  his  only 
for  a  moment  while  her  face  flushed  and  her 
dark  eyes  shone  with  a  soft  radiance.  "I 
am  truly  glad  to  see  you  again,"  she  declared 
with  more  real  feeling  than  any  one  of  the 
other  girls  had  yet  revealed.  Jack,  who 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  55 

adored  Olive,  and  was  a  little  jealous  of  any 
affection  she  might  show  for  other  people, 
stared  at  her  curiously. 

"0  Frank,  do  let's  all  go  out  of  doors/' 
Jack  suggested.  "  We  have  the  most  wonder 
ful  scheme  we  want  to  tell  you  about  and  we 
want  to  know  everything  about  your  people 
in  England,  your  father  and  mother  and  two 
sisters  and  your  wonderful  estate  in  Surrey." 

The  entire  party  was  just  leaving  the  liv 
ing  room  when  Aunt  Ellen's  tall  form  blocked 
the  door.  Her  face  showed  anger  and  she 
held  the  small  Indian  boy  by  his  uninjured 
arm.  Carlos'  eyes  were  larger  and  more 
mournful  than  ever  and  his  lips  set  in  an 
obstinate  curve. 

"This  boy  says  he  won't  eat  with  Zack 
and  me,"  Aunt  Ellen  announced  angrily. 
"He  says  he  is  the  son  of  a  chief  arid  the 
grandson  of  one  and  that  he  should  be  fed 
first;  and  I  won't  put  up  with  such  nonsense." 

"0  Carlos!"  Olive  came  across  the  room 
and  dropped  on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  lad. 
"How can  you  be  so  silly  and  ungrateful?" 
she  asked  pleadingly.  "Aunt  Ellen,  his 
people  are  all  dead;  they  were  killed  in  a 
fight  on  the  plains,  and  I  don't  know  whether 
Carlos  is  a  chief's  son  or  not.  But  of  course 


36          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

we  can't  keep  him  at  the  ranch  if  he  is 
troublesome." 

Olive  was  such  a  lovely  picture  as  she  knelt 
on  the  floor  gazing  up  into  the  Indian  boy's 
face  that  Frank  Kent  looked  at  her  closely 
for  the  first  time  since  he  entered  Rainbow 
Lodge.  She  was  more  changed  than  any  one 
of  the  ranch  girls  in  the  six  months  of  his 
absence,  and  seemed  older  and  somehow  more 
graceful  and  elusive  than  ever. 

Jim  Colter  took  several  great  strides  across 
the  room  toward  small  Carlos,  without  ap 
parently  heeding  Ruth's  little  cry  of  remon 
strance  nor  Olive's  plea  for  patience;  he 
seemed  so  big  and  fierce  and  strong  and  the 
Indian  boy  so  little  and  weak  and  defiant, 
that  it  was  like  a  great  eagle  pouncing  down 
on  an  impudent  sparrow.  Jim  swooped 
Carlos  up  in  his  arms,  but  instead  of  devour 
ing  him,  put  the  lad  down  in  a  chair  by  the 
breakfast  table,  poured  out  a  glass  of  milk 
for  him  and  made  him  drink  it,  for  he  saw 
what  no  one  else  had,  that  the  boy  was  al 
most  dying  of  hunger. 

"  Leave  us  to  ourselves,  please/'  Jim  de 
manded,  smiling  at  Aunt  Ellen  apologetically. 
"I  want  to  see  after  this  boy  myself  for  a 
few  minutes.  Who  knows  but  we  may  need 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  57 

just  such  a  little  scout  in  our  trip  across  the 
prairies." 

Ruth  smiled  at  Jim  without  a  trace  of  the 
old-maid  disapproval  of  him  which  she  once 
felt,  and  Olive  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  she 
had  been  worrying  all  through  breakfast  about 
what  they  could  do  with  Carlos  when  they 
went  on  their  wonderful  caravan  trip.  It 
had  seemed  so  unkind  to  desert  him  after  his 
long  and  faithful  quest  of  her. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Jim  came  out 
in  the  yard,  and  the  Indian  lad  went  to  the 
kitchen  to  do  as  he  was  bid.  Whatever  Jim 
had  told  him  served  to  keep  him  proudly 
obedient  so  long  as  he  remained  at  the  ranch 
house. 

In  front  of  the  Lodge,  Jean,  Olive,  Frieda 
and  Ruth  were  still  talking  of  their  journey, 
while  Frank  and  Jack  had  wandered  off 
somewhere  together.  Jean  was  flitting  about 
in  the  sunlight  like  a  brown  sparrow,  twitter 
ing  and  singing  and  hopping  from  very  joy 
at  being  alive.  She  suddenly  seized  Jim's 
hand  and  forced  Ruth  to  take  hold  of  his 
other  one,  then  when  Olive  and  Frieda  joined 
the  circle,  she  made  them  whirl  around  until 
they  were  completely  out  of  breath.  "I  de 
clare,  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life," 


58          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Jean  panted,  when  she  finally  released  her 
victims.  "I  believe  every  good  thing  in  the 
world  comes  true  if  you  only  want  it  hard 
enough.  But  don't  you  wish  we  were  travel 
ing  across  the  plains  right  now?  It  is  such 
a  wonderful,  wonderful  day!" 

Truly  it  might  have  been  a  spring  morn 
ing  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  pale  green 
leaves  of  the  tall  cottonwood  trees  were  shim 
mering  and  quivering  with  each  faintest 
breeze;  the  birds  were  rustling  softly  in  their 
branches,  and,  beyond  the  trees,  the  alfalfa 
fields  were  now  a  delicate  lavender  and  rose. 

Jean  pointed  through  an  opening  in  the 
trees,  where  the  landscape  stretched  almost 
unbroken  to  the  line  of  hills  on  the  western 
horizon  and  made  a  little  curtsy  to  Ruth. 

Oh,  what's  the  way  to  Arcady 
Where  all  the  leaves  are  merry?' ' 

"Tell  me,  Ruth,  dear,"  she  quoted  mis 
chievously  from  a  volume  of  poems  she  and 
her  chaperon  had  just  finished  reading. 

Ruth  shook  her  head,  but  Jim  stared  at 
Jean  thoughtfully.  "Say  that  little  verse 
again,  Jean,"  he  said  slowly.  "I  don't 
know  where  Arcady  is,  but  it  is  a  pretty 
sounding  place/' 


THE  WAY  TO  ARCADY.  59 

Jean  laughed  roguishly  and  blew  him  a 
kiss.  "What  has  come  over  you,  Jim,  to 
make  you  willing  to  listen  to  poetry?"  she 
inquired.  "Arcady  is  just  an  ideal  country 
that  poets  like  to  write  about,  but  here's  the 
way  to  find  it  if  you  like: 

"  *  What,  know  you  not,  old  man  (quoth  he), — 
Your  hair  is  white,  your  face  is  wise, — 
That  love  must  kiss  that  Mortal's  eyes 
Who  hopes  to  see  fair  Arcady? 
No  gold  can  buy  you  entrance  there, — 
But  beggared  love  may  go  all  bare — 
No  wisdom  won  with  weariness, 
But  love  goes  in  with  Folly's  dress — 
No  fame  that  wit  could  ever  win, 
But  only  love  may  lead  love  in 
To  Arcady,  to  Arcady.'  " 

At  the  end  of  her  recitation  Jean  quickly  put 
her  hands  in  Olive's  and  Frieda's  and  ran  off 
to  see  if  any  flowers  had  bloomed  in  their 
violet  bed,  leaving  Ruth  and  Jim  alone. 
Ruth  was  blushing,  for  she  had  a  far-off  idea 
of  what  Jean  meant  to  suggest  by  her  quo 
tation,  but  Jim  appeared  so  sublimely  un 
conscious  that  she  felt  relieved.  He  was 
evidently  thinking  of  something  very  dif 
ferent  from  love  or  Arcady,  for  Ruth  had  to 
toueh  him  before  he  seemed  to  hear  what 


60          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

she  was  saying.  "When  may  Jack  write  the 
people  to  say  they  can  have  the  Lodge?" 
she  inquired,  determined  not  to  be  entirely 
forgotten  by  her  companion,  no  matter  how 
glad  she  was  that  he  had  paid  no  attention 
to  Jean. 

"The  Lodge?  Oh,  any  time,"  he  answered 
vaguely,  looking  at  Ruth  in  a  way  that  made 
her  catch  her  breath.  Jim  wras  not  thinking 
at  the  moment  of  anything  connected  with 
Rainbow  Lodge.  He  wras  wondering  if  a  man, 
who  had  something  in  his  past  he  wished  to 
forget,  could  ever  travel  over  into  Arcady  by 
the  route  Jean's  poem  suggested  —  Arcady, 
that  country  he  knew  nothing  about  except 
that  the  name  had  a  pleasant  sound. 


CHAPTER  V 

MEETING  WITH   NEW   PEOPLE 

JEAN  BRUCE,  if  you  add  one  more 
item  to  that  everlasting  old  list  of 
yours,  we  will  have  to  give  up  our 
trip/7  Jack  Ralston  remarked  crossly.  "Even 
if  Jim  has  given  us  a  few  precious  dollars  to 
invest  in  our  going-away  outfits,  we  can't 
buy  the  entire  town  of  Laramie  and  cart  it 
across  the  state  to  the  Yellowstone  Park." 
Jack  was  standing  in  front  of  her  mirror 
trying  to  fasten  down  her  shirtwaist  in  the 
back,  and  as  a  pin  had  just  pricked  her  finger, 
she  was  irritable. 

"What  was  that  funny  thing  you  advised 
our  buying  last  night,  Olive?"  Jean  called 
into  the  next  room,  ignoring  her  cousin's  pro 
test  in  the  serenest  possible  manner.  Miss 
Bruce  was  dressed  for  a  journey  of  some  sort 
in  a  pretty,  dark  blue  suit  and  a  cream  straw 
hat  with  a  pair  of  jaunty  blue  wings  atop  of 
it.  Her  expression  was  one  of  demure  readi 
ness  for  any  great  event,  yet  she  was  seated 

(61) 


62          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

quietly  at  a  table  with  a  half-filled  memoran 
dum  book  before  her  and  a  much-used  pencil 
in  her  hand. 

Olive  flitted  in  from  the  adjoining  chamber 
with  her  new  frock  half  buttoned.  "Oh, 
never  mind,  if  we  can't  afford  the  thing  I 
suggested/7  she  said  soothingly.  "I  am  afraid 
it  will  cost  an  awful  lot,  but  I  read  that  every 
traveler  across  a  desert  ought  to  have  a 
sleeping  bag  to  take  along.  We  can  wrap 
up  in  our  old  blankets  and  comforts,  but  I 
thought  it  would  be  fine  to  get  a  bag  for  Ruth 
if  we  could,  for  you  know  she  is  such  a  chilly 
person,  and  if  she  isn't  comfortable  at  night 
she  will  lie  awake  and  listen  to  the  strange 
sounds  of  the  desert  that  we  love  and  she 
fears." 

Jack  looked  instantly  penitent.  She  was 
never  impatient  with  Olive,  as  she  sometimes 
was  with  Jean;  and,  besides,  she  had  about 
finished  dressing  and  the  reflection  in  the 
glass  was  gratifying.  The  ranch  girls  had 
new  spring  suits  sent  from  the  East.  Jack's 
was  brown,  and  her  little  straw  toque  had  in 
it  a  curling  feather  that  matched  the  bronze 
tones  in  her  hair. 

"We  will  have  the  sleeping  bag  if  we  have 
to  go  without  shoes."  she  answered  amiably. 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.          63 

"But,  Jean,  dear,  why  do  you  have  to  have  a 
bottle  of  violet  perfume  to  take  with  you 
across  the  plains  when  you  have  lived  for 
some  sixteen  years  without  one?" 

"  That's  just  the  reason,  Jack  Ralston," 
Jean  returned  uncompromisingly.  "I  won 
der  when  you'll  learn  that  we  are  not  tomboys 
any  longer  and  ought  to  have  the  things 
other  girls  have.  You  know  you  are  as  vain 
of  your  appearance  in  that  suit  Cousin  Ruth 
made  you  get,  as  you  can  be.  I  must  say 
you  do  look  rather  well  in  it." 

Jack  kissed  Jean  quickly.  "I  am  an  inter 
fering  old  thing,"  she  confessed  meekly.  "But 
please  don't  talk  about  our  being  nearly 
grown  up,  for  it  frightens  me;  I  am  not  going 
to  be  grown  for  years  and  years.  Promise 
me  you  won't  say  a  word  about  my  remem 
bering  that  I  am  a  girl  and  a  fairly  elderly 
one  the  whole  time  we  are  on  our  caravan 
trip  and  I'll  agree  to  do  whatever  you  wish 
while  we  are  in  Laramie." 

"All  right.  Here  comes  Frieda  and  Coufein 
Ruth,  so  it  must  be  almost  time  for  us  to 
start,"  Jean  consented,  stuffing  her  paper  and 
pencil  into  her  shiny  new  traveling  bag. 

Jean,  Jack  and  Olive  were  about  to  leave 
for  the  city  of  Laramie  to  purchase  the  sup- 


64          RANCH   GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

plies  for  their  caravan  trip  to  the  Yellowstone 
Park. 

Several  weeks  had  passed  since  Jean  ori 
ginated  her  wonderful  idea,  and  most  of  the 
arrangements  for  the  journey  had  been  com 
pleted.  The  Harmons  had  signed  the  con 
tract  to  rent  Rainbow  Lodge  for  the  summer, 
and  Frank  Kent  had  gone  to  Colorado,  after 
a  short  visit  at  the  ranch,  threatening  to 
meet  the  girls  again  in  some  out-of-the-way 
place  before  their  holiday  was  over. 

The  girls  were  trying  not  to  appear  per 
turbed,  though  they  were  really  in  a  great 
state  of  excitement.  For  the  first  time  in 
their  lives  they  were  to  spend  two  nights 
alone  in  a  hotel.  Jim  could  not  leave  the 
ranch,  on  account  of  some  special  business; 
Ruth  could  not  accompany  them,  because  she 
would  not  leave  Frieda,  who  had  a  bad  cold 
and  was  not  well  enough  to  go.  However, 
Mrs.  Peterson,  the  proprietress  of  a  boarding 
place  where  the  girls  were  to  stay,  was  an 
acquaintance  of  Jim's  and  had  promised  to 
act  as  their  chaperon. 

Frieda  tumbled  into  the  room  at  this  in 
stant,  with  her  big  blue  eyes  more  aggrieved 
than  usual  and  her  small  nose  distinctly  pink 
around  the  edges.  It  was  her  first  experience 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.         65 

in  being  left  at  home  and  she  was  noi;  happy 
over  it.  She  flung  her  arms  about  her  sister, 
and  Jack  leaned  over  to  whisper  pleadingly, 
"  Promise  you  won't  cry  when  we  go,  baby, 
and  we'll  bring  you  and  Ruth  the  funniest 
surprise  presents  in  town." 

While  Ruth  was  rearranging  Jean's  hat, 
which  had  slipped  to  one  side  in  the  flurry 
of  departure,  and  straightening  Olive's  long 
coat,  the  rattling  of  the  horses'  harness  and 
Jim's  voice  telling  the  girls  to  hurry  could  be 
distinctly  heard. 

"  Don't  forget  my  list  of  medicines,  Jean, 
and  don't  forget  the  new  toothbrushes," 
Ruth  advised  hastily.  "And,  Jack,  please,  for 
goodness'  sake,  don't  fail  to  keep  your  ap 
pointment  with  the  Harmons  at  their  hotel 
to-morrow  afternoon.  As  they  have  been 
good  enough  to  wait  in  town  an  extra  week 
for  us  to  give  up  the  Lodge  to  them  after 
their  long  trip  from  New  York,  you  ought  to 
be  willing  to  meet  them  if  they  wish  it." 

"Well,  I'm  not  willing,  Ruth,"  Jack  de 
murred;  "though  we  promise  to  keep  our 
words  like  ladies.  I  confess  I  am  horribly 
embarrassed  at  having  to  call  on  entire  strang 
ers  with  no  one  even  to  introduce  us.  I  do 
devoutly  hope  the  men  of  the  family  won't 


66          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

think  they  have  to  appear,  because  I  am 
afraid  enough  of  the  mother  and  daughter. 
I  suppose  it  is  this  poor  Elizabeth  Harmon 
who  is  curious  to  see  what  we  are  like,  so 
I  presume  we  will  have  to  give  her  the  pleas 
ure.  Imagine  us,  Ruth,  at  five  to-morrow 
afternoon  making  our  bows  to  the  rich  New 
Yorkers.  It  is  silly  of  me,  but  I  have  taken 
a  dislike  to  the  entire  Harmon  family  simply 
because  they  are  going  to  live  in  our  home 
for  a  while,  I  suppose,  though  I  am  anxious 
enough  for  their  money  for  our  holiday. ri 

During  Jack's  monologue  the  girls  had  gone 
into  the  yard,  and  a  few  mkiutes  later  Ruth 
and  Frieda  were  almost  overpowered  by  the 
fervor  of  their  farewell  embraces.  The  last 
glimpse  they  had  of  the  travelers,  Jack  was 
standing  up  in  their  wagon,  with  Jean  and 
Olive  clutching  at  her  skirts  and  entirely 
unmindful  of  the  grandeur  of  her  new  attire, 
waving  both  hands  and  giving  the  familiar, 
long-drawn-out  call  of  the  cowboys  of  the 
Rainbow  Ranch. 

The  trip  to  Laramie  was  uneventful,  and 
though  the  ranch  girls  slept  three  in  a  bed, 
and  talked  till  almost  morning  that  they 
might  enjoy  to  the  full  the  novelty  of  the 
experience,  their  first  night  at  Mrs.  Peterson's 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.         67 

boarding  house  was  equally  without  excite 
ment. 

By  eight  o'clock  the  following  morning 
the  girls  set  out  on  their  first  regular  shop 
ping  expedition,  and  by  four  in  the  afternoon 
Jean  sank  dejectedly  down  on  a  stool  in  a 
grocery  store.  "Girls,"  she  declared  wearily, 
"we  have  shopped  all  day  and  shopped  all 
night  and  shopped  again  until  broad  daylight. 
At  least,  I  feel  as  if  we  had,  and  if  you  don't 
take  me  somewhere  to  rest  I  shall  surely  die." 
But  the  girls  had  scrimped  and  saved  pennies 
all  day  in  order  to  buy  the  sleeping  bags 
for  Ruth  and  Freida,  and  would  not  give  up 
until  they  were  purchased. 

Poor  Jean  was  forcibly  dragged  from  her 
resting  place  by  Olive  and  Jack,  and  the 
three  girls  set  out  down  the  street  again, 
gazing  in  all  the  shop  windows.  "For  mercy's 
sake,  what  kind  of  a  store  would  keep  a  sleep 
ing  bag,  Olive?"  Jean  inquired  mournfully, 
leaning  heavily  upon  Jack,  who  walked  next 
her.  "I  have  seen  a  punching  bag  in  Jim's 
room  at  the  rancho,  and  I  have  heard  some 
where  of  carpet-bags,  but  I  have  no  more 
idea  of  what  a  sleeping  bag  is  like  than  the 
old  man  in  the  moon." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  exactly  either,  Jean," 


68          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Olive  confessed,  walking  a  little  in  advance 
of  her  friends,  with  her  eyes  on  the  ground. 
Her  frightened  "Oh!"  and  stumble  against 
Jack  brought  the  entire  party  to  a  standstill. 
A  young  man  had  been  marching  along  the 
street  toward  them  in  an  entirely  abstracted 
state  of  mind  and  had  run  into  Olive. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered  apolo 
getically.  "I  am  not  a  native  of  this  place 
and- 

Jack's  eyes  flashed  with  indignation  and 
Olive  flushed,  with  the  soft  color  that  was 
peculiar  to  her  rising  in  delicate  waves  from 
her  throat  to  her  forehead,  but  mischievous 
Jean  giggled.  "Is  it  the  custom  to  bump 
into  people  in  the  place  you  do  come  from?" 
she  inquired  innocently.  "Because,  crude  as 
we  are,  it  isn't  the  custom  here." 

Jack  frowned  at  Jean's  frivolity,  indicating 
very  plainly  that  Miss  Bruce  was  not  to 
enter  into  a  conversation  with  a  stranger, 
but  she  need  not  have  worried,  because  the 
young  man  was  not  paying  the  least  atten 
tion  either  to  her  or  Jean.  He  was  staring 
at  Olive,  not  rudely,  but  with  a  curious,  ques 
tioning  gaze  that  made  her  drop  her  dark 
eyes  until  her  long,  straight  lashes  touched 
her  cheeks. 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.         69 

"I  hope  I  didn't  hurt  you/'  the  young 
fellow  protested  awkwardly.  Olive  shook  her 
head  without  glancing  up,  but  the  other  two 
girls  got  a  good  look  at  him.  He  was  almost 
as  dark  as  Olive  herself,  although  he  had  none 
of  her  foreign  appearance,  and  was  big  and 
broad-shouldered,  and  seemed  to  be  an  east 
ern  college  fellow,  twenty  or  twenty-one 
years  old. 

Jack  engineered  her  party  into  a  near-by 
department  store,  leaving  the  young  man  still 
staring  after  them  with  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"Great  Scott,  what  a  boor  I  was!"  he  ex 
claimed  to  himself  a  second  later.  "But  I 
never  had  anything  strike  me  so  all  of  a 
heap  as  that  girl's  face  in  my  life."  And  he 
strode  away  looking  tremendously  puzzled. 

Fortunately  the  brown  woolen  sleeping  bag 
for  Ruth  was  discovered  in  this  first  shop,  but 
by  the  time  a  smaller  one  was  bought  for 
Frieda,  it  occurred  to  Jack  to  ask  the  time, 
as  no  one  of  them  possessed  a  watch,  and 
Jean  and  Olive  had  wandered  off  to  make 
new  investments  in  motor  veils.  "Ten  min 
utes  to  five  o'clock,"  the  shopkeeper  an 
nounced,  and  Jack's  heart  sank  to  zero.  All 
day  she  had  been  wishing  that  she  had  not 
promised  Ruth  to  keep  the  appointment  with 


70          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

the  Harmons,  but  what  would  Jean  and  Olive 
do  when  they  found  they  had  no  time  to 
dress  before  their  engagement? 

"Girls,"  a  sepulchral  voice  whispered  sud 
denly  in  Jean's  ear,  "we  have  just  ten  min 
utes  to  get  to  the  hotel  to  call  on  those  dread 
ful  Harmons,  if  we  rush  off  this  minute." 

Jean  caught  a  glimpse  of  herself  in  a  mirror 
which  happened  to  be  just  before  her  on  the 
counter.  Her  stylish  appearance  of  the  morn 
ing  had  disappeared;  her  hat  was  on  one 
side  and  a  smudge  decorated  the  tip  of  her 
piquant  nose.  Then  she  gazed  disapprovingly 
at  Jack,  who  was  almost  as  much  wilted  and 
whose  hair  was  anything  but  neat.  Olive's 
appearance  was  the  best,  but  she  was 
unusually  pale,  with  violet  shadows  under  her 
eyes  and  a  soft  droop  to  her  whole  body. 

"Behold  the  Three  Graces!"  Jean  remarked 
disdainfully.  "Jack  Ralston,  I'll  not  go  a 
step  to  call  on  those  people  until  we  have  had 
a  chance  to  fix  ourselves  up.  I  know  they 
will  talk  all  summer  about  how  dreadful  we 
are  if  they  see  us  first  looking  such  frights." 

"But,  Jean,"  Jack  argued,  as  much  de 
pressed  as  her  cousin,  "if  we  go  back  to  our 
boarding  place  and  dress  before  we  make  our 
call  we  shall  be  so  horribly  late  that  Mrs. 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.         71 

Harmon  probably  won't  see  us  and  she  may 
be  so  offended  that  she  will  refuse  to  come  to 
the  Lodge  this  summer.  Then  good-by  to 
our  caravan  trip."  < 

Jean's  rebellious  attitude  slowly  altered. 
"But  what  shall  I  do  about  the  smut  on  my 
nose,  Jack?"  she  objected  faintly. 

"Rub  it  off  with  your  handkerchief,"  Jack 
replied  cruelly,  as  the  three  girls  made  a 
hurried  rush  for  a  car. 

"But  we  may  meet  the  son  of  the  family, 
and  I  think  Donald  Harmon  is  a  dream  of  a 
name,"  Jean  continued  mournfully,  "and  I 
did  hope  that  one  of  us  would  be  able  to  make 
an  impression  on  him." 

Olive  laughed  and  gave  Jack's  hand  a  con 
ciliatory  squeeze,  for  Jack's  face  had  flushed 
as  it  usually  did  when  Jean  made  any  such 
teasing  suggestion.  The  truth  of  the  matter 
was  that  Jack  hated  to  think  there  was  any 
real  difference  between  friendship  with  a  boy 
or  a  girl,  and  Jean,  though  she  only  joked 
about  the  subject  at  present,  cherished  a  very 
different  idea. 

"It  is  much  more  important  that  we  make 
ourselves  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Harmon  and  her 
daughter,"  Jack  answered,  with  her  nose  in 
the  air,  as  she  sat  down  in  the  car,  but  Jean 


72          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

merely  lifted  her  pretty  shoulders  and  gave 
a  sly  glance  at  Olive.  "Oh,  I  beg  your  par 
don,  Miss  Ralston,"  she  apologized.  "I  for 
got  you  were  a  man-hater,  unless  one  leaves 
Frank  Kent  out  of  the  question."  This  was 
a  hateful  speech  of  Jean's  and  she  deserved 
the  speedy  punishment  she  received. 

The  three  ranch  girls  found  the  hotel  they 
sought  and  were  given  the  number  of  Mrs. 
Harmon's  sitting  room.  They  hesitated  for 
a  minute  outside  her  door.  "I  don't  know 
why  I  feel  so  nervous  about  going  in,  just  as 
though  something  dreadful  was  going  to  hap 
pen,"  Jack  whispered  softly.  "I  don't  even 
like  to  knock." 

"I  know  what  is  troubling  you,  Jack," 
Olive  murmured  gently.  "None  of  us  has 
confessed  it  to  the  other,  but  I  believe  we 
are  nervous  about  meeting  Elizabeth  Har 
mon.  We  don't  know  how  ill  she  is  or  whether 
she  is  even  able  to  walk,  and  we  are  afraid  we 
may  do  or  say  the  wrong  thing." 

"I  am  sure  you  won't,  Olive,"  Jack  re 
turned,  as  she  summoned  courage  to  knock 
at  the  closed  door.  The  girls  thought  they 
heard  a  faint  response  from  the  inside,  and 
walked  slowly  into  the  room,  hesitating  for 
a  moment  because  of  the  sudden  change 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.          73 

from  daylight  to  almost  complete  darkness. 
The  blinds  at  the  windows  were  drawn  closely 
down,  and  there  was  no  light  except  that 
which  shone  from  two  rose-colored  candles 
that  burned  on  the  tall  mantel-piece.  No 
one  seemed  to  be  in  the  room  as  Jean  started 
blindly  forward.  Olive  put  out  her  hand  to 
stop  her,  but  she  was  not  in  time,  for  at  the 
same  instant  Jean  plunged  blindly  into  a 
small  table  loaded  with  teacups,  and  the  quiet 
room  echoed  with  the  noise  of  crashing  china 
and  embarrassed  exclamations  from  poor  Jean. 

The  next  moment  Jack  and  Olive  saw  a 
fragile  figure  rise  up  from  an  immense  leather 
chair  and  swing  herself  toward  them  on  a 
single  crutch.  She  was  so  thin  and  delicate 
and  dressed  in  such  an  exquisite  clinging  white 
gown  that  she  looked  like  the  ghost  of  a  girl, 
the  only  color  about  whom  was  the  mass  of 
shining  red-gold  hair  that  hung  in  a  loose 
cloud  over  her  shoulders. 

"Oh;  I  am  so  sorry  and  ashamed !"  Jean 
murmured  miserably,  her  brown  eyes  filling 
with  tears,  as  she  surveyed  the  havoc  she 
had  wrought. 

" Please  don't  mind;  it  was  all  my  fault." 
Elizabeth  Harmon  put  out  a  small,  hot  hand 
and  touched  Jean's  fingers  shyly.  "I  know 


74          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

I  ought  not  to  have  had  the  room  so  dark 
when  you  came  in,  but  I  have  a  fancy  for 
meeting  people  for  the  first  time  in  the  soft 
candle  light." 

Elizabeth  spoke  the  last  words  gently  and 
Jack  tried  to  conceal  it,  but  her  hostess  knew 
that  the  girl  with  the  sympathetic  warm  gray 
eyes  understood  why  she  preferred  to  meet 
strangers  in  a  semi-darkness. 

Elizabeth  was  not  a  pretty  girl.  Her  eyes 
were  too  pale  a  blue  and  she  looked  too  ill 
for  beauty;  besides,  her  face  had  a  wilful  and 
unhappy  expression,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  these 
defects,  she  had  a  curious  kind  of  grace  and 
charm. 

Jean  and  Olive  were  trying  vainly  to  pick 
up  the  shattered  teacups,  so  it  was  Jack 
who  first  saw  Elizabeth  Harmon's  dilemma. 
She  had  walked  across  the  room  toward  them, 
but  she  was  not  strong  enough  to  get  back 
to  her  chair  alone  and  she  was  too  sensitive 
to  ask  for  help.  Jack  put  her  arm  about  her 
hostess,  without  waiting  for  her  permission, 
and  led  her  to  a  chair,  then  she  sat  down  on 
a  little  spindle-legged  stool  near  her,  feeling 
shy  and  confused. 

"You  shouldn't  have  helped  me;  I  hate 
to  have  people  do  things  for  me/7  Elizabeth 


MEETING  WITH  NEW  PEOPLE.          75 

remarked  rudely.  "I  could  have  walked 
back  to  my  chair  perfectly  well  by  myself. 
Please  do  sit  down,  everybody;  you  make  me 
feel  dreadfully  nervous.  Mother  would  join 
us  if  she  knew  you  were  here." 

The  ranch  girls  were  embarrassed  by  their 
hostess'  ungracious  manner,  but  they  could  not 
be  really  angry  with  her.  Jean  and  Olive 
wondered  why  she  didn't  let  her  mother 
know  of  their  arrival.  Again  Jack  guessed 
the  truth.  Elizabeth  could  not  get  across 
the  room  to  the  bell  and  would  not  ask  one 
of  them  to  ring  it  for  her.  After  a  few  mo 
ments  of  uncomfortable  silence,  Elizabeth 
bent  over  toward  Jack,  whispering  softly: 
"  Forgive  my  being  so  hateful,  and  thank  you 
for  helping  me.  I  have  wanted  dreadfully 
to  know  you  girls,  but  I'm  afraid  you'll  think  I 
am  so  spoiled  you  won't  have  anything  to  do 
with  me.  Will  you  please  ring  the  bell?" 

Jack  moved  quietly  across  the  room,  but 
before  she  reached  the  bell  the  door  flew 
open,  admitting  a  big  fellow  with  flashing 
white  teeth.  He  stopped  in  amazement  at 
the  sight  of  the  three  visitors.  Jean  and  Jack 
recognized  him  at  once  as  the  young  man  who 
had  stared  at  Olive  so  curiously  after  running 
into  her  on  the  street. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   CURIOUS   RESEMBLANCE 

I'LL    be — I    beg   your    pardon/'    Donald 
Harmon    apologized    hurriedly.      "  Sis 
ter,  I  didn't   know   your   visitors   had 
come."     He  held  out  his  hand  to  Jack,  who 
was  nearest  him.     "I  ought  to  have  known 
who  you  were  when  I  met  you  an  hour  ago, 
but  I  was  a  little  confused  over  something/' 
he  said. 

Elizabeth  Harmon  introduced  her  brother 
to  the  girls,  whose  names  she  had  now  learned. 
When  Donald  spoke  to  Olive  he  tried  in  vain 
to  hide  his  puzzled  expression,  and  again  she 
dropped  her  gaze  before  his  as  though  she 
did  not  wish  him  to  see  her  face.  Olive  was 
always  shy,  but  to-day  she  seemed  more  so 
than  usual,  and  she  had  a  peculiar  fashion, 
like  some  flowers,  of  folding  herself  about 
with  little  leaves  and  tendrils  of  reserve  to 
hide  her  real  self  from  the  outside  world. 

Donald  Harmon  sat  down  next  Jack  and 
immediately  across  from  Olive,  but  Jack 

(76) 


A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE.  77 

made  no  effort  to  open  a  conversation  with 
him,  for  she  did  not  like  him  and  did  object 
to  the  odd  way  in  which  he  gazed  at  Olive. 

"What  is  your  friend's  name?  Donald 
inquired  immediately. 

"Olive/'  Jack  returned  in  a  non-committal 
fashion. 

"But  Olive  what?  I  have  a  special  reason 
for  wishing  to  know/'  the  young  fellow  pro 
tested  impatiently.  Olive  and  Jean  were 
talking  with  Elizabeth  and  were  not  observing 
Jack  and  her  companion. 

For  the  fleeting  part  of  a  moment  Jack 
hesitated,  "Olive — why,  Olive  Ralston/'  she 
replied  quietly.  "I  thought  you  knew  our 
name  was  Ralston." 

"I  did,"  Donald  answered.  "Please  don't 
think  I  am  mad,  but  I  thought  for  a  second 
she  might  have  another  name.  Have  you 
ever  heard  the  theory  that  we  all  have  a  double 
somewhere  in  the  world?  I  want  you  to 
look  closely  at  my  mother  when  she  comes  in. 
Your  sister  is  enough  like  her  to  be  her  own 
child,  though  of  course  there  is  a  difference 
in  their  coloring  and  expressions  and  perhaps 
other  details  that  I  have  not  noticed,  but  when 
I  saw  your  sister  on  the  street  to-day  I  was 
overcome  by  their  likeness."  At  this  moment 


78          EANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Donald  Harmon,  hearing  his  mother's  voice 
In  the  hall,  quickly  turned  on  the  electric 
lights. 

Jacqueline  Ralston  caught  her  breath  before 
the  strange  vista  of  possibilities  that  Donald 
Harmon's  suggestion  opened  to  her  imagina 
tion.  Never  had  she  ceased  to  wonder  at 
the  mystery  of  Olive's  birth.  "Has  your 
mother  ever  been  out  west  before?"  Jack 
asked  hastily.  And  Donald  only  had  time 
to  answer,  "  Never  in  her  life,"  when  Mrs. 
Harmon  entered  the  sitting  room. 

Jack's  first  emotion  was  one  of  intense 
and  selfish  relief.  Mrs.  Harmon  and  Olive 
did  not  look  in  the  least  alike — the  son's  idea 
had  been  absurd.  Mrs.  Harmon's  eyes 
were  blue  and  Olive's  black,  her  complexion 
was  fair  and  Olive's  dark.  It  was  true  Mrs. 
Harmon  did  have  black  hair,  though  it  was 
now  slightly  tinged  with  gray,  and  it  grew  in 
a  point  like  Olive's  in  the  center  of  her  low, 
broad  forehead,  but  there  was  nothing  re- 
2narkable  in  this  little  point  of  resemblance. 
Jack  thought  Mrs.  Harmon  beautiful  and 
th.e  first  real  society  woman  she  had  ever 
seen.  Her  manner  was  gracious  and  friendly, 
yet  Jack  knew  instinctively  that  few  people 
were  ever  allowed  to  fathom  her  real  feelings. 


A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE.  79 

"Surely  you  see  the  likeness,"  Donald 
whispered  boyishly.  "It  isn't  that  their 
features  are  so  alike,  it  is  something  I  can 
hardly  explain  to  you  if  you  don't  see  it  your 
self.  I  have  always  thought  my  mother  the 
most  beautiful  person  in  the  world,  but  your 
sister  is  nearly  as  pretty." 

Jack  frowned,  for  she  did  not  care  to  have 
Donald  Harmon  discuss  Olive  in  this  out 
spoken  fashion. 

Mrs.  Harmon  was  sitting  between  Jean  and 
Olive,  listening  to  Jean's  apology  for  the 
broken  teacups.  Like  most  older  people,  she 
was  attracted  by  her  piquant  manner  and 
appearance.  So  far  she  had  paid  no  particu 
lar  attention  to  Olive,  hereby  including  her 
with  the  other  in  a  general  greeting. 

Donald  strode  over  to  his  sister's  chair 
and  murmured  something  under  his  breath. 
Elizabeth  flushed,  stared  across  the  room  and 
shook  her  head  pettishly.  It  was  one  of  the 
trials  of  her  life  that,  though  she  bore  no 
resemblance  to  her  beautiful  mother,  her 
brother  was  supposed  to  look  like  her. 

Olive  and  Mrs.  Harmon  had  their  heads 
close  together.  "I  say,  mother,"  Don  broke 
out  impetuously,  "for  the  life  of  me  I  can't 
see  why  no  one  else  speaks  of  it.  Miss  Olive 


80          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Ralston  looks  ten  times  more  like  you  than 
either  Elizabeth  or  I  do." 

Mrs.  Harmon  turned  to  face  Olive.  "I 
wish  I  thought  so,  Don/''  she  answered 
girlishly:  "Miss  Ralston  is  so  pretty."  She 
took  one  of  Olive's  hands,  but  Olive  was  so 
embarrassed  at  being  the  center  of  all  eyes 
that  she  blushed  furiously  and  gazed  stead 
fastly  down  at  her  lap. 

"I  am  sorry  not  to  agree  with  you,  Don, 
dear,"  Mrs.  Harmon  answered  a  moment 
later.  "This  Miss  Ralston  looks  like  a 
foreign  girl,  an  Italian  or  Spaniard,  and  I  am 
a  thorough  New  Yorker.  Were  your  father 
and  mother  western  people?"  she  asked  Olive. 

Olive's  face  paled  and  her  lips  quivered. 
Would  she  have  courage  to  announce  before 
these  strangers  that  she  had  no  idea  who  her 
mother  and  father  were  nor  from  whence  they 
had  come?  Before  she  could  find  her  voice 
Jack  rushed  blindly  to  the  rescue.  "Olive  is 
our  adopted  sister,  Mrs.  Harmon,"  she  ex 
plained  briefly;  "but  we  do  not  like  people 
to  know  it,  so  we  rarely  speak  of  her  past. 
You  must  forgive  her  if  she  does  not  answer 

you." 

With  perfect  good  taste  Mrs.  Harmon 
immediately  changed  the  conversation  to 


A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE.  81 

another  subject,  but  Jack,  who  was  watching 
her  closely,  saw  that  every  now  and  then  she 
gazed  intently  at  Olive.  If  any  odd  fancy 
crossed  her  mird  or  any  half-forgotten  mem 
ory,  she  gave  no  sign  of  it.  Once  she  leaned 
back  wearily  after  Elizabeth  had  contradicted 
her,  and  Jack  had  an  uncomfortable  moment. 
Perhaps  Mrs.  Harmon  did  suggest  Olive  when 
her  eyes  were  down  and  her  face  was  in 
repose,  but  she  banished  the  idea  as  a  ridicu 
lous  one.  Donald,  however,  clung  obstinately 
to  his  first  impression  and  devoted  the  rest  of 
his  time  to  trying  to  make  Olive  talk. 

Quite  naturally  the  group  of  people  had 
separated  themselves  into  pairs.  Jack,  who 
was  so  strong  and  independent,  who  showed 
vigor  and  joy  of  living  in  every  movement 
of  her  body,  was  deeply  touched  by  Elizabeth 
Harmon's  weakness.  She  recognized  that  the 
girl  was  spoiled  and  that  she  might  be  subject 
to  impossible  moods,  but  she  was  so  sorry 
for  her  that  she  didn't  care  about  her  faults. 
Indeed,  she  said  to  herself  that  if  ever  she  had 
the  same  misfortune  to  endure  she  would  be 
far  more  difficult  than  Elizabeth. 

"I  wish  my  father  would  come/'  Elizabeth 
said  to  Jack  for  the  third  time  in  the  last 
ten  minutes.  "You  see,  he  and  I  are  chums, 


62          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  mother  and  Don  rather  hit  it  off  better 
together.  Mother  is  awfully  good  to  me  and 
lets  me  do  whatever  I  please,  but  she  has 
never  been  able  to  forgive  my  not  being  good- 
looking  like  Don." 

Before  Jack  could  show  Elizabeth  how  her 
speech  had  shocked  her,  Mr.  Harmon's  en 
trance  brought  a  new  atmosphere  into  the 
room.  He  was  a  typical  Wall  Street  broker, 
well  dressed,  with  a  heavy-set  figure,  reddish 
hair  that  was  turning  white,  and  a  curt,  busi 
nesslike  manner.  He  spoke  politely  to  his 
wife  and  her  guests,  but  it  was  plain  to  every 
body  present  that  he  thought  only  of  his 
daughter.  Jack  believed  she  would  have 
disliked  him  except  for  his  devotion  to  Eliza 
beth.  He  never  seemed  unconscious  of  her 
for  a  moment  and  his  expression  softened 
each  time  he  spoke  to  her.  Otherwise  he 
appeared  as  a  shrewd,  hard  man  who  would 
get  the  best  of  a  bargain  whenever  he  had  the 
chance.  Standing  at  the  back  of  his  daughter's 
chair,  he  at  once  asked  Jack  a  dozen  questions 
about  Rainbow  Lodge — what  vegetables  were 
raised  in  their  garden,  whether  they  were 
included  in  the  rent  of  the  Lodge,  what  the 
water  supply  was  for  the  house.  It  was 
evident  that  he  meant  to  get  as  much  as  pos- 


A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE.  83 

sible  for  his  money,  and  Jack  wondered  if  the 
richest  people  were  not  often  those  who 
tried  to  drive  the  hardest  bargains. 

Only  once  did  Mr.  Harmon's  manner 
change.  This  was  when  Elizabeth  put  her 
hand  on  his  sleeve  and  begged  him  to  ask 
Jack  if  there  was  a  pony  on  the  ranch  that  she 
could  have  to  drive. 

"I'm  not  a  rich  man — far  from  it,"  Mr. 
Harmon  remarked  quickly;  "but  if  you  will 
let  my  daughter  have  one  of  your  horses  for 
the  summer,  I  will  pay  you  anything  in  reason. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  I  care  for  so 
deeply  as  her  health  and  happiness." 

Jack  shook  her  head.  From  her  position 
near  the  sick  girl  she  could  see  how  Elizabeth's 
eyes  glistened  at  the  prospect  of  being  allowed 
to  drive  herself.  "Fm  so  sorry,"  Jack 
answered.  "If  any  one  of  us  had  a  pony  that 
would  be  of  any  pleasure  to  Elizabeth,  of 
course  we  would  lend  it  to  her  with  pleasure, 
but  you  see  we  only  ride  horseback  at  the 
ranch  and  have  never  owned  any  kind  of  cart. 
The  ponies  are  not  broken  for  driving." 

As  soon  as  her  speech  was  over  Jack  realized 
that  Elizabeth  Harmon  resented  her  mention 
of  their  horseback  riding,  because  it  was  a 
pleasure  impossible  for  her,  and  that  Mr. 


84          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Harmon  was  in  such  close  sympathy  with  his 
daughter  that  he  also  was  displeased.  But 
Jack,  in  spite  of  her  hot  temper,  was  not 
offended.  "I  tell  you  what  we  might  do, 
Miss  Harmon:  suppose  you  get  your  father 
to  send  a  governess'  cart,  or  whatever  you  wish 
to  use,  to  the  Rainbow  Ranch  right  away. 
Then  when  we  go  back  I  will  make  one  of  our 
cowboys  begin  to  accustom  one  of  our  ponies 
to  driving.  Your  brother  can  see  that  it  is  all 
right,  and  perhaps  we  may  possibly  have  a 
chance  to  go  over  the  ranch  together.  I  would 
like  to  show  you  the  places  we  love  best,  before 
we  start  on  our  trip.  I  am  sure  ranch  life 
and  the  bracing  western  air  will  do  your 
daughter  a  great  deal  of  good,  Mr.  Harmon," 
Jack  said,  rising  to  give  Jean  and  Olive  the 
signal  for  saying  farewell. 

"I  wish  you  weren't  going  away,  Miss 
Ralston — Jack/'  Elizabeth  Harmon  burst  out 
impulsively.  "If  you  would  stay  at  home 
with  me  I  would  be  sure  to  get  well." 

Jack  laughed.  "You  are  awfully  good,  but 
if  we  stayed  at  home  there  would  be  no  room 
for  you.  But  I  feel  ever  so  much  happier 
about  renting  our  home  since  I  have  met  you. 
I  love  the  ranch  so  dearly  I  am  afraid  that 
anyone  who  sees  it  will  begin  to  care  for  it 


A  CURIOUS  RESEMBLANCE.  85 

as  I  do  and  try  to  get  possession  of  it  as  soon 
as  we  are  out  of  sight." 

Mr.  Harmon  shook  hands  with  Jack  with 
more  cordiality  than  he  showed  to  most 
people.  "  Don't  worry  about  your  cattle 
ranch,  Miss  Ralston/'  he  protested.  "I  am 
about  as  much  interested  in  raising  cattle  as 
I  am  in  the  North  Pole,  but  if  you  find  any 
odd  gold  mines  on  your  way  to  the  Yellow 
stone,  I'm  the  man  for  you.  I  make  a  speci 
alty  of  gold  mining  stock  on  Wall  Street." 

Having  safely  arrived  once  more  at  Mrs. 
Peterson's  boarding  house,  the  three  ranch 
girls  retired  to  their  bedrooms  as  soon  as 
dinner  was  over.  After  several  hours  of 
animated  discussion,  the  decision  was  reached 
that  on  the  wiiole  the  Harmons  had  not  made 
an  agreeable  impression.  Jack  liked  Elizabeth, 
and  Jean  and  Olive  thought  Mrs.  Harmon 
very  attractive  and  the  son  fairly  so.  But 
their  new  acquaintances  did  not  strike  the 
girls  as  a  happy  or  united  family.  Certainly 
there  were  grave  differences  of  opinion  between 
them  and  they  seemed  to  be  divided  among 
themselves. 

Among  them,  Jack,  Olive  and  Jean  man 
aged  to  eat  three  pounds  of  candy  before  they 
went  to  sleep.  Jack  wondered  next  morning 


86          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

if  it  were  the  candy  or  the  experiences  of  the 
day  that  made  her  sleep  such  a  queer  jumble 
of  dreams.  She  dreamed  that  the  Harmons 
were  trying  to  get  Olive  away  from  her  and 
that  she  was  holding  to  her  skirts  with  all 
her  might.  Then  Frank  Kent  appeared, 
but  instead  of  helping  her  save  Olive  he  seemed 
to  be  on  the  Harmons'  side.  Jack  felt  her 
self  slipping  down,  down  into  a  great,  dark 
abyss.  She  awakened  finally  to  find  the 
tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  Jean  punching 
her  in  the  ribs  to  bring  her  back  to  her  senses 
and  Olive  imploring  her  to  tell  them  what  was 
the  trouble. 

"Come  out  of  that  nightmare,  for  heaven's 
sake,  Jack  Ralston,"  Jean  insisted.  "You 
were  weeping  as  though  some  terrible  thing 
had  happened.  As  I  was  dreaming  sweetly  of 
our  caravan  trip  I  thought  you  were  some  wild 
animal  wailing,  away  off  in  the  wilderness." 


CHAPTER  VII 


LITTLE   HOUSE   ON  WHEELS" 


OUR  caravan  looks  like  the  real  thing, 
doesn't   it,   Jim?"   Jean   exclaimed, 
balancing  herself  insecurely  on  the 
front  wheel  of  a  mammoth  wagon  and  peer 
ing  over  inside  it  at  a  tall  figure  under  the 
cover.      "Do  you  think  we  will  be  able  to 
get  off  this  afternoon?" 

Jim  Colter  climbed  wearily  out  and  sat 
on  the  driver's  seat,  surveying  his  questioner 
gloomily.  "  Don't  you  think  you  might  go 
in  the  house  and  dress  or  fix  your  hair  or 
something?"  he  asked.  "  You  have  asked  me 
twenty  questions  in  the  last  ten  minutes,  and 
I  might  be  working  in  the  time  it  takes  to 
answer  you.  We  are  going  to  get  away  from 
this  ranch  to-day  if  it's  dark  before  we  start. 
It's  awful  with  those  Harmons,  and  you  and 
Jack  sleeping  at  the  rancho,  and  Olive  and 
Frieda  and  Miss  Ruth  crowded  into  one  bed 
room  at  the  Lodge.  I  don't  see  why  they 
couldn't  have  stayed  away  from  here  until 

(87) 


88          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

after  we  had  gone.  They  have  nearly  pestered 
the  life  out  of  me,  and  now  what  do  you  think 
is  the  latest?" 

Jim  lit  a  cigar  about  half  a  foot  long,  so 
it  occurred  to  Jean  that  he  must  intend  to 
continue  the  conversation  with  her  for  at 
least  a  few  minutes.  She  caught  hold  of  Jim's 
hand  and  swung  herself  up  into  the  seat 
beside  him. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
ten  days  after  the  ranch  girls'  trip  to  Laramie. 
The  caravan  for  their  journey  to  the  Yellow 
stone  Park  was  standing  alongside  the  road 
midway  between  Rainbow  Lodge  and  the 
rancho,  where  Jim  lived.  It  was  a  comfortable 
distance  from  the  Lodge,  because  Jim  pre 
ferred  any  amount  of  labor  in  carrying  the 
girls'  belongings  from  their  house  to  the  wagon 
to  being  compelled  to  exchange  fashionable 
conversation  with  the  Harmon  family  and  to 
answer  their  tenderfoot  questions  about  the 
affairs  of  the  ranch.  Near  Jean's  and  Jim's 
novel  traveling  coach,  four  rough,  short- 
legged  ponies  and  four  larger  horses  tethered 
to  short  ropes  were  quietly  grazing.  The 
scene  suggested  a  circus  resting  for  a  short 
time  before  starting  on  its  travels.  The 
troupe  of  actors  at  present  included  only 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON   WHEELS."       89 

Jean  and  Jim,  but  the  circus  appeared  to  be 
a  new  and  stylish  one,  for  "Mrs.  Jarley's" 
famous  caravan  was  not  more  spick  and  span 
and  less  like  a  gypsy  cart  than  the  little 
house  on  wheels  belonging  to  the  ranch  girls. 
Instead  of  being  covered  with  an  ordinary 
white  canvas  top,  the  canopy  over  the  larg 
est  of  the  ranch  mess-wagons  was  made  of 
new,  strong  and  serviceable  golden-brown 
waterproof  khaki.  The  expedition  into  won 
derland  was  to  have  a  strictly  military  ap 
pearance,  for  the  five  girls  were  to  wear  ser 
vice  uniforms  of  the  same  material. 

"Well,  what's  the  latest,  Jim?"  Jean  in 
quired  coaxingly,  crossing  her  feet  and  slip 
ping  her  arm  through  her  companion's.  She 
was  feeling  a  little  sore,  for  Olive  and  Jack 
had  gone  off  driving  with  Elizabeth  and 
Donald  Harmon  without  asking  her  to  go 
with  them,  as  the  cart  held  only  four  people. 
So  Jean  was  rather  glad  to  gossip  about  the 
newly  arrived  family. 

Jim  frowned  darkly  in  answer  to  Jean's 
question.  ' '  Well,  the  first  thing — that  Harmon 
fellow  marched  himself  down  to  the  rancho 
this  morning  before  any  of  you  girls  were 
up  and  invited  me  to  let  him  go  along  on 
our  trip,  if  you  would  give  your  consent. 


90          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

I  told  him  I  wasn't  thinking  of  running  a 
co-educational  excursion  party;  my  job  was 
to  look  after  girls,  not  boys."  Jim  took  an 
other  long,  slow  puff  at  his  cigar  and  was 
silent. 

"Do  go  on,  Jim,"  Jean  urged,  giving  him 
a  friendly  nudge.  "You  know  Donald  Har 
mon  said  something  else  that  made  you  cross." 

"Oh,  no,  except  he  asked  such  an  all-fired 
lot  of  questions,"  Jim  answered.  "I  didn't 
see  his  game  at  first;  he  kind  of  led  up  to  it 
by  degrees.  But  he  wanted  to  know  how 
long  Olive  had  been  living  with  us  and  how 
you  girls  happened  to  adopt  her  and  what 
made  her  own  people  give  her  up.  When  I 
found  out  what  he  was  after  I  didn't  give 
him  the  least  bit  of  information.  I  hate  a 
Paul  Pry." 

Jean  laughed  lightly,  "Oh,  it  isn't  just 
curiosity  on  Donald  Harmon's  part,  Jim. 
Of  course,  you  and  Jack  would  scorn  to  notice 
it,  but  Donald  has  a  crush  on  Olive.  I  have 
seen  it  from  the  first.  Olive  don't  like  him 
a  bit,  but  he  is  always  staring  at  her." 

Jim  threw  away  his  half-finished  cigar. 
"Look  here,  Jean  Bruce,  will  you  please  stop 
talking  about  crushes  and  such  nonsense?"  he 
remarked  sternly.  "I  never  hear  any  of  the 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."       91 

other  girls  talking  such  foolishness,  and  I 
think  Miss  Ruth  ought  to  see  that  you  put 
a  stop  to  it.  I  mean  to  speak  to  her  about 
it." 

"  Grouchy/7  Jean  whispered  under  her 
breath,  then  her  eyes  sparkled  wickedly. 
"Here  comes  Ruth  now;  I'll  run  and  tell 
her  that  you  want  to  complain  of  the  way 
she  is  bringing  me  up."  Jean  slid  down  over 
the  wagon  wheel  out  of  the  reach  of  Jim's 
restraining  fingers,  and  he  retired  into  the 
covered  depth  of  the  wagon,  pretending  not 
to  have  observed  Miss  Drew's  approach. 
However,  Jean  fled  past  her  chaperon  with 
out  a  word  and  only  a  mischievous  nod  of 
her  head. 

Ruth  was  walking  down  the  road  from  the 
Lodge,  already  dressed  for  the  journey.  Little 
blonde  Frieda  was  on  one  side  of  her  and 
little  brown  Carlos  on  the  other,  and  all  of 
them  had  their  arms  loaded  with  bundles. 
Ruth  wore  a  short,  plaited  skirt  which  showed 
her  pretty  feet  clad  in  high,  brown  leather 
boots.  A  Norfolk  jacket,  a  tan  silk  blouse 
and  a  soft  brown  felt  hat  completed  her  cos 
tume.  Somehow  she  seemed  to  have  lost 
ten  years  of  her  age  and  looked  about  eight 
een.  There  was  no  trace  of  the  maidenly 


92          RANCH  GIRLS5  POT  OF  GOLD. 

primness  that  had  been  so  conspicuous  in 
the  early  days  of  her  stay  at  the  Rainbow 
Ranch.  Her  figure  was  pretty  enough  for  a 
model  in  a  fashion  paper;  her  ash-brown  hair 
and  eyes  that  had  once  seemed  plain  when 
her  skin  was  sallow,  now  had  a  picturesque 
charm  of  their  own.  Ruth's  coloring  sug 
gested  Burne-Jones'  pictures  of  English  wo 
men,  with  the  same  dull,  even  tones  in  their 
hair  and  eyes,  and  their  clear,  pallid  skins 
warmed  by  an  inner  glow. 

Frieda's  going-away  suit  was  also  khaki 
and  made  in  exactly  the  same  style  as  the 
other  girls'.  She  was  too  funny  in  it,  with 
her  plump  body  and  fat  legs.  But  her  eyes 
under  her  plain  felt  hat  were  bluer  than 
myrtle  and  her  cheeks  pinker  than  a  rose. 

Of  the  trio  approaching  the  apparently 
empty  caravan,  only  Carlos'  expression  was 
serious.  A  kind  of  inner  rapture  transfigured 
even  his  Indian  solemnity.  To  be  in  the 
wilderness  again  and  this  time  not  with  a 
roving  Indian  camp,  but  with  "The  Big 
White  Chief,"  which  was  his  name  of  Jim, 
and  "The  Princess,"  his  title  for  Olive — the 
soul  of  the  lad  was  filled  to  overflowing. 
Therefore,  since  an  Indian  must  never  show 
an  emotion  of  joy  or  sorrow,  Carlos  was 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."        93 

more  silent  than  ever.  No  wonder  Frieda 
had  lately  found  him  a  dull  playmate,  but 
then  he  filled  one  requirement — he  was  a 
good  listener.  So,  on  the  whole,  she  was  glad 
he  was  to  be  a  member  of  their  expedition 
though  she  could  fancy  a  companion. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Colter/'  Ruth's  voice  called,  as 
she  drew  nearer  the  caravan,  "if  you  are  not 
too  busy  here  are  a  few  more  things  you  might 
put  in  the  wagon  for  us.  We  saw  you  hide 
a  few  minutes  ago." 

Jim  stuck  his  head  out  and  tried  to  look 
as  severe  as  possible,  though  his  companions 
were  not  of  the  kind  one  could  easily  treat 
with  severity. 

"Miss  Drew,"  he  said  sternly,  "if  I  had 
known  what  you  girls  were  going  to  take  on 
this  trip  I  should  never  have  consented  to 
run  it.  I  lie  awake  nights  wondering  how 
four  horses  are  going  to  pull  such  a  load, 
seven  people  and  all  this  truck,"  Jim  groaned. 
"I'm  glad  we've  got  two  extra  pack  horses 
and  two  ponies  for  riding." 

Ruth  laughed,  not  in  the  least  disturbed 
by  Jim's  complaints.  "Please  come  down 
out  of  the  wagon,  Mr.  Colter,  and  go  attend 
to  the  last  things  on  the  ranch.  We  are  to 
have  an  early  lunch  so  we  can  start  soon 


94          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

after.  I  know  I  won't  have  the  least  trouble 
in  finding  a  place  to  store  away  these  things/' 

Jim  crawled  out  submissively,  lifting  Frieda 
and  Ruth  into  the  van;  then,  after  Carlos 
climbed  in,  he  left  them. 

The  three  newcomers  stood  silent  for  a 
moment  inside  their  caravan,  speechless  with 
satisfaction,  as  they  surveyed  the  interior 
beauty  and  trimness  of  their  equipage.  The 
frame  that  supported  the  khaki  cover  of  the 
wagon  had  been  made  by  a  cowboy  on  the 
ranch  who  had  formerly  been  a  carpenter. 
He  had  fashioned  two  small  windows,  one 
on  either  side,  and  at  these  windows  Ruth 
had  hung  white  muslin  curtains.  Outside 
the  canopy  toward  the  front  of  the  wagon 
were  two  broad  seats,  each  capable  of  hold 
ing  three  persons  and  shut  off  from  the  back 
by  a  heavy  khaki  curtain,  while  under  the 
canopy  were  two  long  benches  to  rest  the 
travelers  by  day  and  to  serve  Jim  and  Carlos 
for  beds  by  night. 

Suitcases  and  boxes  were  stored  under  the 
benches  and  seats,  blankets  and  pillows  were 
rolled  tight  and  crammed  into  every  available 
space.  From  a  nail  in  the  frame  of  the 
wagon  hung  a  large  mirror  which  Jean  in 
sisted  upon  bringing,  completely  surrounded 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."       95 

by  pots  and  pans  and  important  kitchen 
utensils.  There  was  no  great  store  of  pro 
visions,  as  the  caravaners  trusted  to  their 
guns  and  fishing  tackle  for  game  and  fish, 
and  intended  to  restock  their  larder  in  the 
towns  along  their  route.  A  plan  of  campaign 
had  been  drawn  up  and  solemnly  agreed 
upon — the  five  girls  were  to  do  the  cooking, 
Jim  to  look  after  the  horses  and  set  up  the 
sleeping  tent,  and  Carlos  to  fetch  wood  and 
water  and  teach  them  all  he  knew  of  the 
lore  of  the  great  outdoors. 

Ruth  saw  that  everything  in  the  little 
house  on  wheels  was  in  shipshape  order  for 
their  start  before  she  and  the  children  re 
turned  to  the  Lodge  to  see  if  Olive  and  Jack 
were  at  home. 

The  two  girls  had  been  driving  around  the 
Rainbow  Ranch  with  Donald  and  Elizabeth 
Harmon  the  greater  part  of  the  morning. 
From  the  hour  of  Elizabeth's  arrival  at  the 
Lodge  the  day  before  she  had  not  been  willing 
to  let  Jack  out  of  her  sight.  It  was  very 
trying,  as  Jack  longed  to  help  with  the  last 
preparations  for  their  departure,  but,  faithful 
to  her  promise,  with  Olive's  assistance  she 
was  showing  off  the  place ,  driving  an  old 
plough  horse  hitched  to  a  low  yellow  cart, 


96          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

which  Mr.  Harmon  had  sent  from  town 
for  his  daughter.  There  was  no  pony 
yet  safe  to  use  with  Elizabeth.  They 
rode  along  on  the  far  side  of  Rainbow  Creek, 
the  ranch  girls  pointing  out  the  best  fishing 
pools  to  Donald  and  showing  him  the  trails 
that  led  to  different  parts  of  the  ranch.  Near 
the  middle  of  the  creek  and  in  sight  of  the 
big  rock  where  " Gypsy  Joe"  had  been  seen 
making  his  investigations,  Elizabeth  insisted 
she  was  tired  and  they  must  stop  for  her  to 
rest.  Donald  lifted  her  out  and  she  sat  down 
on  the  trunk  of  an  old  tree  with  Olive,  while 
Jack  and  Donald  walked  a  few  yards  farther 
on,  leaving  their  horse  to  wait  patiently  for 
them. 

"I  am  going  to  show  you  a  discovery,  Mr. 
Harmon/7  Jack  declared  in  a  friendly  fashion, 
anxious  to  make  their  new  acquaintance  feel 
at  home.  "  Years  ago  I  found  a  secret  trail 
along  here  which  no  one  knew  of.  It  leads 
from  this  thick  underbrush."  Jack  got  down 
on  her  knees  before  a  clump  of  bushes  and 
parted  them.  Sure  enough  there  was  the 
beginning  of  an  overgrown  path  which  the 
eye  could  follow  for  a  short  distance.  "I 
found  this  trail  one  day  when  I  was  a  little 
girl  playing  over  here  with  Jean  and  Frieda," 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."        07 

she  explained,  "and  I  went  on  and  on  for 
miles  until  I  came  to  a  cave  in  some  rocks, 
where  some  settlers  had  once  lived.  Jim 
Colter  believes  the  path  was  made  by  gold 
seekers  who  came  to  get  water  from  Rain 
bow  Creek.  Some  of  our  other  men  claim 
they  were  searching  for  gold  in  our  creek." 

At  this  moment  Elizabeth's  impatient  voice 
was  heard,  and  Jack  and  Donald  went  back 
to  her,  but  not  before  Donald  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  investigate  the  mysterious  path 
pointed  out  to  him.  He  meant  to  find  out 

hether  an  eastern  tenderfoot  could  be  trusted 

find  his  way  along  those  first  trails  which 
the  earliest  pioneers  had  left. 

Olive  had  been  amusing  Elizabeth  by  carv 
ing  on  the  stump  of  a  tree  an  Indian  design, 
a  perfect  square  cut  into  four  equal  parts, 
representing  the  direction  of  the  four  winds. 
Now  Elizabeth  insisted  that  they  write  their 
names  in  the  spaces  to  show  the  bond  of 
friendship  between  them.  Neither  Jack  nor 
Olive  wished  to  promise  their  friendship  so 
readily  to  comparative  strangers,  yet  neither 
of  them  knew  how  to  deny  the  sick  girPs 
whim.  So  the  compact  was  made  before 
they  returned  home. 

Ruth  and  the  girls  were  to  have  their  last 


98          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

luncheon  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harmon  at  the 
Lodge;  Jim  was  not  to  be  with  them,  as  he 
scorned  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
strangers.  The  last  course  had  been  served 
and  they  were  just  getting  up  from  the  table 
when  a  long,  clear  call  was  heard.  The  five 
ranch  girls  sprang  instantly  to  their  feet  and 
began  to  gather  up  their  coats  and  last  re 
maining  parcels.  On  the  front  porch  fare 
wells  were  said  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harmon 
and  Elizabeth  and  to  Aunt  Ellen  and  Uncle 
Zack.  The  old  woman,  who  was  to  stay  to 
look  after  the  newcomers  with  her  husband's 
help,  had  her  apron  over  her  head  and  re 
fused  to  be  comforted;  Uncle  Zack  was 
equally  depressed,  realizing  the  loneliness  and 
longing  for  the  girls  that  they  would  soon  feel. 

Five  khaki  figures  now  sped  down  the 
road  toward  the  caravan  with  Donald,  who 
was  trying  to  assist  with  the  bundles.  Seated 
in  the  driver's  seat,  with  Carlos  next  him,  and 
cracking  a  long  whip,  was  Jim  Colter.  Every 
speck  of  his  grouchiness  had  disappeared; 
his  eyes  were  as  shining  and  his  lips  as  smil 
ing  as  Frieda's. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Harmon,"  Jack  said,  smil 
ing  half  sadly  at  Donald.  "  Please  take  good 
care  of  things  for  us  at  the  ranch.  I  feeJ 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."       99 

almost  like  a  traitor  in  turning  my  back  on 
my  home." 

Donald  laughed.  "Oh,  don't  worry/1  he 
answered  kindly.  "You  will  find  things  just 
as  you  left  them  when  you  get  back.  You 
know  we  want  to  borrow,  not  to  steal  your 
place. w  And  for  some  reason  neither  Jack 
nor  Donald  ever  forgot  his  words. 

The  horn  sounded  again;  Jim  turned  his 
horses  with  their  noses  toward  the  western 
sun,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  loud  clang 
ing  from  the  great  bell  that  hung  in  front 
of  the  rancho  to  summon  the  cowboys  from 
across  the  fields.  Six  cowboys  rode  in  to 
ward  the  caravan  in  as  many  different  direc 
tions.  As  the  big  wagon  wheels  crunched  in 
the  sand  with  the  pack-horses  trailing  behind 
and  Olive's  and  Jack's  ponies  alongside,  the 
six  cowboys  formed  a  semicircle,  the  emblem 
of  the  Rainbow  Ranch,  and  cracking  their 
whips  in  unison  let  out  a  tremendous  yell. 
It  was  the  call  the  Indians  use  before  going 
into  battle  and  it  might  have  frozen  the  blood 
of  the  uninitiated,  but  the  ranch  girls  knew 
it  meant  good  luck  and  went  away  with  the 
sound  ringing  in  their  ears. 

The  caravan  party  did  not  feel  they  had 
started  on  their  journey  until  they  crossed 


100        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

the  border  of  their  own  ranch.  The  land 
beyond  was  familiar  enough,  but  this  after 
noon  it  was  invested  with  a  new  charm.  It 
was  a  new  world,  because  they  had  set  out 
on  a  voyage  of  discovery,  so  it  was  disen 
chanting  when  they  had  ridden  a  few  miles 
beyond  their  own  place  to  discover  another 
caravan,  smaller  and  far  shabbier  than  theirs, 
but  still  a  caravan,  drawn  up  by  the  side  of 
a  solitary  tree  along  the  road.  A  ragged  girl 
nursing  a  baby  was  resting  in  the  grass  and 
an  old  woman  was  bending  over  a  freshly  lit 
camp-fire.  There  was  no  man  in  sight,  but 
Jim  recognized  the  wayfarers  with  a  sudden 
tightening  of  his  lips  before  any  one  of  the 
girls  spoke. 

"Why,  there  are  our  gypsies!"  Jean  de 
clared  lightly.  "And,  Ruth,  there  is  the  old 
woman  who  told  us  our  fortunes.  She  said 
you  were  going  on  a  journey,  and  sure  enough 
you  are!  I  wonder  if  any  other  of  her  pre 
dictions  will  come  true.  She  told  us  such  a 
jumble  of  things  and  most  of  it  was  such 
utter  nonsense  that  I  can't  remember  half 
of  them." 

Ruth  leaned  over  toward  the  front  seat: 
"Have  you  any  idea  why  those  people  are 
staying  around  in  this  neighborhood,  Mr. 


"A  LITTLE  HOUSE  ON  WHEELS."      101 

Jim?"  she  asked,  using  her  new  name  for 
him  for  the  first  time. 

"No,"  Jim  answered  truthfully,  beaming 
approval  of  his  title. 

An  hour  or  so  afterwards  Jack  and  Olive 
were  riding  ahead  of  the  wagon  looking  for 
a  suitable  place  to  strike  camp  for  the  night. 
There  was  no  water  near,  but  a  tiny  clump 
of  trees  offered  a  certain  shelter,  and  they  went 
toward  it.  From  a  cluster  of  bushes  a  west 
ern  bluebird,  which  is  bluer  than  all  others, 
rose  up  and  soared  over  the  girls'  heads, 
homing  toward  its  nest  in  the  trees.  It  was 
a  wonderful  darting  ray  of  splendid  color 
against  the  orange  glow  of  the  setting  sun. 

Olive  clapped  her  hands  softly.  "0  Jack, 
do  let's  get  Jim  to  pitch  our  tent  here  for 
the  night.  That  was  a  bluebird  that  flew 
across  our  path,  and  it's  a  good  omen:  'the 
bluebird  for  happiness' — don't  you  remember 
the  play  Ruth  read  us?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ALONG   THE   ROAD 

FOR  a  week  the  caravan  party  moved 
on.  They  had  gotten  away  from  the 
railroad  and  were  following  an  ancient 
trail  which  wound  southward  to  the  timber- 
lands  of  the  Yellowstone,  passing  through 
valleys  and  canyons  and  over  upland  sum 
mits,  now  faint  and  grass-grown,  now  lost 
in  the  sand  drifts,  but  always  reappearing 
and  always  re-discovered  by  Jim's  trained 
eyes.  The  journey  across  the  state  was  to 
last  several  weeks,  and  the  caravaners  were 
in  no  hurry  to  accomplish  it. 

One  morning  Ruth  came  to  the  tent  door, 
dressed  before  any  of  the  girls.  She  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  about  her  and  then 
waved  her  hand  to  Jim,  who  was  chopping 
a  big  log  of  wood  that  Carlos  had  dragged 
into  the  camp  the  night  before.  "Mr.  Jim/' 
she  called,  "do  you  think  there  is  any  special 
need  of  our  traveling  to-day?  The  girls 
and  I  have  been  talking  things  over  and  we 

(102) 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  103 

think  that  we  and  the  horses  need  a  rest. 
This  is  such  an  enchanting  place,  anyhow,  I 
feel  this  morning  I  would  like  to  spend  my 
life  here." 

Jim  stalked  over  to  the  tent,  with  his  face 
as  radiant  as  the  morning.  He  had  his  arms 
full  of  wood,  and  the  string  of  shining  fish 
over  his  shoulder  showed  that  he  had  been 
up  and  at  work  for  several  hours.  "Sure," 
he  agreed  heartily.  "I'd  like  nothing  better 
than  to  loaf  a  while  in  this  part  of  the  coun 
try.  I've  got  some  harness  to  mend  and  a 
lot  of  odd  jobs  to  do,  and  this  is  sure  the 
prettiest  spot  we've  seen." 

The  wagon  and  horses  were  a  little  distance 
from  the  ranch  girls'  tent,  but  still  in  plain 
view.  The  tent  was  at  the  head  of  a  silver 
stream  that  ran  like  a  ribbon  through  a  green 
oasis  of  " gramma"  grass.  In  the  distance 
rocks  that  looked  like  battlements  rose  on 
either  side  of  a  deep  gorge,  and  dimly  seen 
farther  on  were  hoary  old  mountain  tops 
with  their  peaked  caps  of  snow. 

Ruth  laughed.  "An  honest  confession  is 
good  for  the  soul,  isn't  it?  I  should  have 
told  you  that  my  real  reason  for  not  wishing 
to  move  on  to-day  is  that  I  simply  have  got 
to  do  some  housekeeping.  My  New  England 


104        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

soul  is  racked  by  the  way  our  pots  and  pans 
are  looking,  and  Jean  says  if  she  doesn't  have 
a  chance  to  wash  the  sand  out  of  her  hair 
she  will  have  to  cut  it  off  and  wear  a  wig. 
If  you'll  make  up  the  fire  for  me,  I'll  get 
breakfast  in  a  minute;  the  girls  already  are 
starving." 

"Then  why  don't  one  of  them  come  out 
and  help  you  cook?"  Jim  demanded  auto 
cratically.  "I'm  plumb  afraid  they  are  put 
ting  too  much  of  the  work  on  you." 

"Injustice,  thy  name  is  Jim  Colter!"  Jack 
exclaimed  at  this  minute,  appearing  before 
the  fire  with  a  sleepy  look  in  her  gray  eyes, 
and  a  coffeepot  in  her  hand.  "I  told  Ruth 
I'd  get  breakfast  this  morning,  so  run  away, 
Ruthie,  and  help  Frieda  find  her  clothes;  she 
is  in  the  depth  of  despair  about  one  of  her 
shoes.  And  tell  Jean  and  Olive  they  must 
set  the  table." 

Jim  swung  his  fish  before  Jack's  delighted 
eyes.  "I'll  cook  these,  Missie,"  he  said 
calmly.  "I  don't  believe  I  care  to  trust  you." 

"All  right.  I'll  fry  the  bacon  to  go  with 
them,"  Jack  returned  in  her  most  profes 
sional  cook  manner.  "I  like  the  odor  of 
bacon  these  mornings  in  camp  better  than 
any  flower  that  blooms.  Isn't  it  great  that 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  105 

we  have  had  a  whole  week  of  perfect  sun 
shiny  weather?" 

The  camp  breakfast  did  not  take  much 
more  than  half  an  hour  to  get,  though  it  was  a 
pretty  substantial  meal.  Coffee  and  chunks 
of  toasted  bread,  fish,  bacon,  marmalade  and 
jam,  and  this  morning  fresh  water  from  the 
near-by  spring,  formed  the  menu.  It  took  quite 
as  long  to  eat,  however,  as  the  most  elaborate 
repast  served  by  a  fashionable  .New  York 
hotel.  Jim  moved  over  a  little  nearer  the 
fire  to  be  farther  away  from  the  girls  when 
he  finished.  He  got  out  his  favorite  pipe 
and  tenderly  snuggled  the  tobacco  into  it, 
and  Jack  saw  the  thought  of  the  day's  chores 
fade  gently  from  his  mind  and  a  reminiscent 
light  come  into  his  eyes.  Ruth  was  no  longer 
overcome  by  household  cares.  The  day 
stretched  on  before  them,  apparently  an  end 
less  chain  of  golden  opportunities  to  do 
nothing. 

"I  was  around  in  this  neighborhood  once 
before,"  Jim  remarked  casually.  This  was 
as  near  as  Jim  had  ever  gotten  to  being  con 
fidential,  and  Jean  and  Jack  exchanged  glances. 

"What  were  you  doing  here,  Jim?"  Jack 
queried,  trying  to  make  her  voice  appear 
perfectly  indifferent. 


106        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Jim  hunched  his  big  shoulders  and  took  a 
long  puff  at  his  pipe.  "I  was  prospecting 
for  gold,  same  as  every  other  young  idiot 
that  ever  came  west  not  knowing  a  lump  of 
gold  from  a  chunk  of  mud  when  he  found  it," 
he  returned  calmly.  "  There  are  three  little 
pine  cone  hills  a  matter  of  ten  miles  from 
here,  with  an  ugly  stream  of  water  and  a 
group  of  trees  near  them,  where  I  believe  I 
had  a  claim  located  once,  a  good  many  moons 
ago.77 

"And  you  never  told  us  a  word  about  it. 
Jim  Colter,  you  are  a  pig!"  Jean  declared 
inelegantly. 

" There  wasn't  nothing  to  tell,  Jean,"  Jim 
replied  in  his  usual  slow,  indifferent  manner. 
"Just  another  fellow  and  I  saw  a  hill  with 
some  bits  of  black  rock  with  yellow  streaks 
in  it,  and  we  dug  away  for  a  couple  of  months 
without  getting  anything  out  of  it  but  trouble.'7 

"Jim,  I  don't  believe  there  wasn't  gold  in 
your  mine,"  Jean  declared  resolutely.  "You 
just  gave  up  too  soon.77 

"All  right,  Miss  Bruce,7'  Jim  agreed.  "You 
can  have  my  claim  if  you  want  it.  Come 
to  find  out,  we  weren't  the  first  and  I  don't 
reckon  we  were  the  last  fellows  to  go  digging 
in  that  hill.  It's  called  'Miner's  Folly7,  and 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  107 

is  about  as  gloomy  a  looking  hole  as  any 
body  ever  saw." 

"I'd  like  to  see  the  place  awfully,  Jim," 
Jack  suggested  eagerly. 

"  Don't  doubt  it  for  a  moment,  Jack," 
Jim  returned  unwinkingly. 

Jack  whispered  something  in  Jean's  ear. 
"I'll  do  no  such  thing,  Jack  Ralston,"  Jean 
replied  firmly.  "Remember,  yesterday  you 
were  awfully  selfish  about  letting  me  have 
my  turn  at  riding  horseback  with  Olive.  I 
told  you  then  I  shouldn't  do  the  next  favor 
you  asked  me  and  I  certainly  don't  mean  to 
wear  myself  out  on  such  a  tramp.  Besides, 
Jim  wouldn't  think  of  taking  you." 

"Wouldn't  you,  Jim?"  Jack  pleaded  meekly. 

Jim  appeared  to  have  no  ears. 

Jack  slipped  around  by  the  fire  and  dropped 
a  few  pine  cones  on  it. 

"Wouldn't  you  kind  of  like  to  see  that  old 
mine  you  deserted,  Jim?"  Jack  queried. 
"Suppose  there  is  any  change  in  it?  Maybe 
it  has  turned  out  to  be  a  really  valuable 
claim  since  your  day  and  you  have  never 
heard  of  it." 

Jim  shook  his  head,  but  Jack  saw  that  she 
had  lighted  the  fires  of  desire  in  his  soul. 
"Maybe  I  will  walk  over  toward  the  old 


108        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

spot  just  to  see  what  the  scenery  is  like,  when 
I  finish  my  work/'  Jim  admitted,  a  few  min 
utes  later,  and  his  admission  spelt  defeat. 

An  hour  after,  Jim  Colter  and  Jack  Ralston 
set  out  with  their  rifles  over  their  shoulders 
and  their  pockets  stuffed  with  provisions,  to 
find  Jim's  unlucky  mine.  Little  brown  Carlos 
followed  them  like  a  persistent,  though  distant 
shadow.  He  had  been  ordered  by  Jim  to 
stay  near  the  tent,  water  the  horses  and  make 
himself  generally  useful,  for  Jim  did  not  be 
lieve  that  he  and  Jack  could  get  back  from 
their  fool's  errand  before  bedtime.  Of  course, 
Jim  did  not  consider  that  the  girls  he  left 
behind  would  get  into  danger  or  mischief  in 
his  absence,  or  he  would  never  have  gone; 
but  they  had  met  with  no  rough  characters 
on  their  journey  and  the  country  seemed 
perfectly  safe.  Neither  Ruth  nor  Olive  nor 
Jean  objected  to  being  left  alone;  indeed, 
they  were  rather  glad  to  get  rid  of  the  man 
of  their  party  for  a  little  while.  Ruth  was 
worried  only  for  fear  Jack  would  get  over 
tired  from  her  long  walk;  she  did  not  dream 
that  any  other  trouble  might  befall  her  with 
Jim  as  her  escort. 

"Slow  but  sure,  Jack.  Remember,  you 
promised  to  trust  to  my  judgment  on  this 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  109 

trip,"  Jim  suggested  kindly,  when  after  sev 
eral  miles  of  travel  Jack  showed  no  signs  of 
fatigue. 

"All  right,  I  remember,"  Jack  answered 
obediently.  "Let's  sit  down." 

The  two  travelers  had  reached  the  deep 
gorge  which  they  had  seen  from  their  tent, 
and  Jim  recalled  that  the  trail  to  the  old 
mine  had  followed  this  ravine  for  a  part  of 
the  way  and  then  branched  off  across  coun 
try  to  the  west. 

Jack's  sudden  backward  glance  caught 
sight  of  a  moving  figure  behind  them.  In  a 
moment  she  recognized  Carlos  and  wondered 
what  Jim  would  say  to  him,  for  she  knew  he 
could  be  pretty  fierce  and  savage  when  he 
was  disobeyed. 

"There's  Carlos,"  Jack  pleaded  meekly; 
"don't  be  hard  on  him." 

"I've  known  he  was  after  us  for  the  last 
half  hour,"  Jim  replied  curtly.  "Carlos, 
come  here." 

Carlos  had  been  creeping  along  through 
the  grass  in  Indian  fashion,  but  now  he 
straightened  up  his  lithe  body  and  came 
straight  toward  Jim.  Jack  knew  he  was 
horribly  frightened  and  so  she  couldn't  help 
but  admire  the  boy's  sudden  grip  on  him- 


110        RANCH  GIRLS' POT    OF  GOLD. 

self.  He  looked  straight  into  the  "Big  White 
Chief V  eyes;  only  once  his  eyelids  twitched. 

"Why  did  you  come  with  us  when  I  said 
stay  behind?"  Jim  demanded  quietly  with 
his  own  peculiar  sternness. 

The  boy  hesitated;  but  an  Indian  does  not 
lie  to  his  friends.  "I  heard  you  speak  of 
the  cave  of  the  never-found  gold,"  Carlos 
answered  simply.  "The  Indians  of  the  plains 
now  know  the  value  of  the  white  man's  gold. 
Often  have  I  followed  them  into  the  desert 
to  search  for  it  in  vain.  For  nothing  else 
would  I  leave  the  women  whom  you  gave 
me  to  tend,  but  I  too  must  see  the  place  of 
which  you  speak." 

Jim  groaned,  and  Jack  laughed  lightly. 
"Come  on,  Carlos,"  she  said  kindly.  "Part 
ner,"  she  turned  to  Jim,  "no  matter  what 
happens  from  this  day's  outing,  remember 
you  are  responsible  for  planting  the  gold 
microbe  in  Carlos  and  me."  For  the  rest 
of  their  tramp  Jack  could  not  but  amuse  her 
self,  whenever  her  companions  were  silent, 
with  wild  dreams  of  what  joy  it  would  be 
for  them  to  come  across  a  gold  mine  and  get 
suddenly  very  rich.  She  kept  guessing  and 
planning  what  she  and  the  other  girls  would 
do.  More  than  anything,  she  wished  to  play 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  Ill 

fairy  godmother  to  the  overseer  of  their 
ranch.  During  the  week  of  their  caravan 
trip,  Jim  had  showed  so  plainly  that  only 
Ruth  and  Frieda  were  still  unconscious  of  it, 
how  much  he  cared  for  the  ranch  girl's  chap 
eron.  And  Jack  knew  how  little,  except  the 
strength  of  his  love,  he  had  to  offer  her. 
Jim  had  been  running  the  Rainbow  Ranch, 
receiving  a  salary  so  small  for  the  value  of 
his  services  that  it  made  Jack  blush  to  think 
of  it. 

Time  after  time  had  she  begged  him  to 
manage  the  ranch  on  shares,  but  he  had 
always  refused,  saying  he  had  no  need  of 
money,  and  the  place  made  only  enough  to 
pay  expenses,  take  care  of  the  girls,  and  put 
a  little  by  for  their  futures.  And  Jim  knew 
they  would  need  more  money  some  day  if 
they  were  ever  to  see  anything  of  the  great 
world  which  lay  outside  their  ranch  lands. 

Jim  paid  no  heed  to  Jack's  unnatural 
silence,  for  his  mind  was  fixed  on  a  discovery 
that  absorbed  his  entire  interest.  Other 
travelers  had  lately  crossed  the  trail  which 
he  and  his  companions  were  following.  Foot 
prints  were  fresh  upon  it,  and  in  an  out-of- 
the-way  spot  a  tin  can  showed  a  bright  new 
label.  The  footprints  not  only  followed  the 


BANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

path  along  the  side  of  the  ravine,  but  marked 
the  same  track  through  the  more  open  coun 
try.  Without  these  signs,  Jim  knew  he  could 
never  have  traced  the  old  trail  so  easily,  yet 
he  felt  the  gold  prospector's  hot  glow  of  re 
sentment — another  man  had  located  his  claim. 
Then  he  smiled,  remembering  he  had  turned 
his  back  on  it  as  no  good,  nearly  fourteen 
years  before.  Without  a  word  to  his  com 
panions,  however,  he  kept  his  eyes  fastened 
steadfastly  on  the  ground  and  his  ears  alert 
for  every  sound  each  step  of  the  way,  but 
no  other  human  being  appeared  in  the  vast 
solitude.  Once  Jim  and  Jack  sighted  a  covey 
of  quail  and  killed  half  a  dozen.  Ruth  and 
the  other  girls  were  willing  to  eat  quail  so 
long  as  they  did  not  have  to  see  them  killed. 
About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the 
travelers  had  their  first  vision  of  Jim's  three 
pine  cone  hills  with  the  stream  of  brackish 
water  running  down  the  side  of  one  of  them, 
and  in  the  background  a  dense  thicket  of 
evergreens.  Forgetting  their  tired  feet,  Jack 
and  Carlos  made  a  sudden  rush,  but  Jim 
caught  hold  of  them,  making  them  keep  close 
to  his  side  until  he  saw  the  place  was  de 
serted.  At  last  he  brought  them  in  breath 
less  silence  to  a  yawning  cave  in  the  middle 


ALONG  THE  ROAD.  US 

hill.  It  was  only  a  great,  black  hole,  dull  and 
uninteresting.  Jack  peered  well  into  it  for 
a  sign  of  anything  that  sparkled  or  shone 
like  a  precious  metal.  It  showed  only  a 
mixture  of  earth  arid  stones  and  sand,  and 
the  whole  place  was  so  gloomy  it  gave  her 
a  shiver  of  apprehension.  The  sun  was  not 
so  bright  as  it  had  been  a  short  time  before. 
Suddenly  she  felt  cold  and  weary,  though 
she  could  not  explain  the  cause. 

"It's  a  pretty  dismal  place,  isn't  it,  Jim?" 
Jack  said  quickly.  "I  am  awfully  glad  to 
have  seen  it  of  course,  but  I  don't  wonder 
you  ran  away.  I  am  sure  no  gold  could  be 
discovered  here."  And  the  girl  heaved  a  sigh 
of  fatigue  and  disappointment.  She  was  sure 
she  had  made  the  trip  simply  from  idle  cur 
iosity,  yet  the  chance  of  their  finding  a  gold 
mine  had  been  lurking  in  the  back  of  her 
mind. 

Jim  was  stalking  about  the  deserted  mine 
like  a  hound  that  had  been  given  a  scent. 
He  had  seen,  not  far  from  one  of  the  hills, 
a  piled-up  heap  of  ashes,  which  showed  that 
a  fire  had  been  built  there  within  the  past 
few  days,  and  the  rank  grass  in  the  vicinity 
pressed  down  by  human  bodies.  Jack  had 
picked  up  a  tool  from  the  earth  immediately 


114        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

in  front  of  the  mine,  and  the  tool  had  been 
lately  used. 

"Wait  here  for  me,  Jack,"  Jim  suggested 
finally.  "I  know  you  are  tired  and  need  a 
rest  before  we  start  back.  Carlos,  look  after 
Miss  Jack  and  don't  go  out  of  sight.  I  want 
to  explore  the  neighborhood  a  bit.  I  will  not 
be  long.  Nothing  will  happen,  but  if  you 
want  me  call  out." 

Jack  paid  no  special  attention  to  Jim's 
departure.  She  found  a  comfortable  place, 
sat  down  and  closed  her  eyes.  How  soon  she 
fell  asleep  she  did  not  know,  but  she  heard 
no  sound  from  Carlos  when  he  slipped  away 
into  the  woods  back  of  them.  Tempted  by 
the  possession  of  a  new  gun,  the  boy  dis 
obeyed  a  second  time  that  day. 


CHAPTER  IX 


"MINER'S  FOLLY" 


JACK  sat  up  with  a  start.     She  had  dozed 
only  a  few  minutes,  and  felt  indignant 
with  Carlos  when  she  found  he  also  had 
deserted  her.     It  was  time  they  were  starting 
back  for   camp.      "Jim!  Jim!   Carlos!"   she 
halloed,    in    half-hearted    fashion;    then    she 
hugged  her  sweater  closer  about  her,   glad 
that  Ruth  had  insisted  on  her  wearing  it, 
for    as  evening  approached    it    was  growing 
strangely  cooler. 

There  seemed  nothing  to  do  that  was  in 
teresting  before  her  companions  returned. 
Jack  wandered  idly  to  the  edge  of  the  pine 
woods  behind  the  hills,  but  saw  and  heard 
nothing  of  Carlos;  then  she  examined  the 
small  stream  along  one  of  the  hillsides,  knelt 
and  scooped  up  a  handful  of  water,  putting 
it  to  her  lips.  It  was  salt  as  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  must  have  made  life  doubly  hard  for 
the  men  who  worked  in  "Miner's  Folly," 
for  they  could  hear  its  soft  trickle  by  day 

115) 


116         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  night  and  yet  never  quench  their  thirst 
in  its  waters. 

All  this  time  Jack  was  thinking,  not  of 
what  she  was  doing,  but  of  the  queer  big  hole 
in  the  side  of  the  hill,  that  was  like  a  wound. 
Irresistibly  she  was  drawn  toward  it  by  an 
impulse  of  curiosity  and  dread.  Jim  had  told 
her  of  no  tragedies  except  disappointed  hopes 
that  were  buried  in  the  deserted  mine,  yet 
she  felt  that  if  the  cavern  could  suddenly 
change  into  an  open  mouth  it  would  have 
many  strange  stories  to  tell  of  lives  and  for 
tunes  lost  by  its  false  lure. 

Jack  stared  so  hard  into  the  entrance  of 
the  tunnel  that  it  no  longer  seemed  dark  to 
her.  She  went  into  it  a  few  feet  and  peered 
about  her.  Curiosity  was  one  of  the  strong 
est  traits  of  Jacqueline  Ralston's  character, 
not  a  girl's  idle  desire  so  much  as  a  boy's 
firm  determination  to  find  out  what  things 
are  like,  and  how  they  are  accomplished. 
Jack  had  never  seen  a  gold  mine  before,  and 
she  did  not  wish  to  tell  the  girls  nothing 
except  that  it  was  a  big  hole  in  the  earth. 
The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  uninteresting,  so 
Jack  lit  a  match  and  walked  a  few  feet  further 
in.  On  the  ground  were  bits  of  broken  stone 
which  she  stuffed  in  her  pocket  for  Frieda, 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  117 

thinking  she  spied  an  odd  glimmer  in  them. 
Although  the  main  entrance  to  the  mine  was 
through  a  single  opening,  by  the  aid  of  her 
flickering  light  Jack  saw  that  miners  had 
pursued  many  dead  lodes  in  the  sides  of  the 
hill.  This  means  they  had  dug  tunnels  wher 
ever  they  hoped  to  follow  a  vein  of  gold, 
until  the  whole  inside  of  the  hill  looked  like 
a  network  of  black  passages. 

It  now  occurred  to  Jack  that  Jim  and  Carlos 
must  have  returned  and  surely  they  would 
think  the  earth  had  opened  and  swallowed 
her,  so  out  she  crept  into  the  daylight  again. 
The  place  was  still  solitary  and  gloomy. 
"  Jim!  Jim!  Carlos!"  Jack  cried  aloud.  There 
was  no  answer.  If  only  she  had  waited  five 
or  ten  minutes  more  before  she  started  back 
into  that  gruesome  cave.  And  yet,  perhaps, 
the  spirits  of  other  adventurous  natures  were 
summoning  her  to  follow  them. 

One  passage  was  larger  than  the  others. 
Jack  certainly  thought  she  saw  stones  that 
shone  like  gold  lying  near  its  mouth.  It 
was  separated  from  the  main  tunnel  by  a 
gully,  across  which  some  planks  had  been 
laid.  With  a  lighted  match  in  her  hand  and 
gazing  upward,  Jack  stepped  on  the  forward 
end  of  a  plank.  In  a  flash  her  light  went  out 


118        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  she  fell  back  with  a  heavy  thud.  Her 
weight  on  the  loose  plank  had  caused  it  to 
rise  up,  striking  her  in  the  forehead  with 
terrific  force.  Fortunately,  she  had  fallen 
clear  of  the  gully,  but  her  body  lay  in  the 
shadow  out  of  the  reach  of  any  light  that 
might  come  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 
She  suffered  no  pain;  the  blow  had  been  too 
swift  and  sure,  stunning  her  into  silence  and 
complete  unconsciousness. 

"Ool  Ooo!  Oooo!"  Jim  whistled  through 
his  fingers  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
"  Cheer  up,  Jack,  I'm  coming  at  last,"  he 
shouted,  a  few  yards  farther  on.  His  eon- 
science  had  begun  to  trouble  him,  and  he  was 
quite  prepared  to  find  Jack  cross  at  having 
been  forced  to  wait  for  him  more  than  half 
an  hour.  Jim  had  not  consulted  his  watch 
at  the  moment  of  his  departure,  but  he  was 
fairly  certain  that  he  had  been  gone  some 
time,  and  that  they  must  hurry  off  at  once  if 
they  were  to  be  with  Ruth  and  the  girls  by 
an  early  bedtime. 

Jim  whistled  and  called  all  the  way  to  the 
three  pine  cone  hills.  He  presumed  he  would 
have  to  make  his  peace  with  his  companion 
by  telling  her  that  he  had  discovered  other 
visitors  to  the  old  mine  within  a  very  short 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  119 

time.  There  were  evidences  of  their  pres 
ence  everywhere  in  the  vicinity,  and  they  had 
not  been  idle  curiosity  seekers,  but  men  with 
a  mission.  Whether  they  had  given  up  the 
hunt  for  gold  and  gone  away  from  the  neigh 
borhood  of  the  mine  for  good,  Jim  could  not 
tell.  This  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  he 
had  prowled  around  so  long.  He  had  gone 
to  all  the  likely  spots  near  by,  where  a  party 
of  miners  might  be  camping,  thinking  he 
might  run  across  them,  but  not  one  of  them 
had  turned  up. 

Pretty  soon,  Jim  discovered  that  Jack  and 
Carlos  were  not  in  the  spot  where  he  left 
them,  but  he  did  not  yet  feel  uneasiness. 
He  circled  around  the  three  hills;  he  went  a 
short  distance  into  the  thicket  of  pine  trees, 
making  as  much  racket  as  possible;  he  gave 
the  long  cowboy  call  of  the  Rainbow  Ranch. 
And  then  Jim's  blue  eyes  turned  black  with 
anger  and  his  sun-tanned  skin  grew  red.  He 
was  exceedingly  angry  with  Jack  and  Carlos, 
he  was  frightened,  and  an  inner  voice  reminded 
him  that  if  anything  had  happened  to  them 
he  was  to  blame  for  leaving  them  so  long 
alone, 

But  what  could  have  happened? — for  no  one 
else  had  come  near  the  place. 


120        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Jim  saw  Jack's  footprints  leading  to  the 
entrance  of  the  cave,  but  his  own  and  the 
Indian  boy's  were  alongside  them,  and  as 
they  had  rushed  to  look  in  the  mine  the  first 
moment  of  their  arrival  he  did  not  think  to 
search  for  fresh  tracks.  And  yet,  for  an  in 
stant,  Jim  had  an  odd  premonition  urging  him 
toward  the  deserted  mine. 

The  wind  was  now  blowing  hard  across  the 
plains;  and  the  sun  was  slipping  down  to  the 
line  of  the  far  horizon,  not  in  a  crimson  glow, 
but  in  a  piled-up  mass  of  smoke — gray  clouds 
lit  with  flame-colored  sparks.  Jim  watched 
it  uneasily.  A  summer  storm  was  coming 
up  after  their  week  of  perfect  weather,  and 
Jack,  who  knew  the  signs  of  the  weather  as 
well  as  any  backwoodsman,  had  probably  set 
off  with  Carlos  for  their  camp,  expecting  him 
to  overtake  them.  There  was  no  other  ex 
planation  for  their  disappearance.  Once  Jim 
walked  irresolutely  toward  the  mouth  of  the 
mine;  then  he  turned,  quickly  moving  off 
along  the  trail,  wondering  how  far  his  com 
panions  would  be  able  to  travel  before  he 
reached  them.  Within  twenty  yards  he 
halted,  swung  himself  about  and,  in  spite  of 
his  worry  and  haste,  strode  back  to  the  open 
mine,  where  he  had  once  vainly  tried  to  find 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  121 

his  fortune.  Jim  did  not  know  exactly  why 
he  returned;  he  never  dreamed  that  either 
Jack  or  Carlos  could  be  inside,  but  he  had 
to  obey  the  impulse  that  first  prompted  him. 

The  great  hole  in  the  hillside  was  blacker 
than  ever,  and  Jim  felt  a  shudder  of  repul 
sion  as  he  gazed  into  it.  He  had  always  hated 
his  old  subterranean  existence  of  digging  into 
the  earth  for  her  treasures,  when  everywhere 
on  her  broad  plains  the  fruit  and  flowers  and 
grasses  offered  an  equal  opportunity  and  a 
fuller  and  higher  meaning  to  life. 

"Jack!  Jack!"  Jim  called  weakly,  down  on 
his  knees  at  the  gaping  mouth  of  the  tunnel, 
trying  to  grow  more  accustomed  to  the  dark 
ness  and  crying  Jack's  name,  not  because  he 
thought  her  near,  but  because  he  was  filled 
with  a  vague  foreboding. 

There  was  no  answer  out  of  the  grim  dark 
ness.  Jack  could  give  no  sign  of  her  presence, 
and  the  black  shadow  into  which  she  had 
fallen  hid  the  outline  of  her  prostrate  body. 

Suddenly  a  boom  of  distant  thunder  sounded 
from  the  far  side  of  the  world,  and  Jim  Colter 
sprang  quickly  to  his  feet,  for  he  knew  how 
swiftly  storms  travel  across  the  western  plains, 
and  he  feared  Jack  and  Carlos  might  wait 
for  him  in  the  dangerous  shelter  of  the  trees. 


RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Faster  than  he  had  run  in  many  a  long  day 
he  left  the  neighborhood  of  the  unlucky  mine. 

A  little  later  Carlos  appeared  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  pine  woods,  his  brown  face  scratched, 
his  breath  coming  unevenly,  with  his  gun  on 
his  square,  lean  shoulder,  and  a  little  bunch 
of  a  feathery  or  furry  something  tucked  under 
his  arm.  He  did  not  linger  as  Jim  had;  he 
believed  at  once  that  his  companions  had 
given  him  up,  and  sped  on  as  fast  as  his  weary 
brown  legs  could  carry  him  along  the  path 
which  had  brought  them  to  the  place  of  the 
pine  cone  hills.  Carlos  had  wandered  too  far 
into  the  woods  and  had  lost  his  way,  but 
now  he  hoped  to  overtake  the  other  advent 
urers  and  in  some  way  to  make  his  peace. 

When  Jack  opened  her  eyes  it  was  nearly 
dark  outside  the  mine  as  well  as  in.  She 
lay  quite  still,  feeling  a  dull  pain  in  her  head 
and  an  aching  numbness  in  her  body.  "  Olive ! 
Jean!  Ruth!"  she  called  fretfully.  "I'm  ill. 
Why  don't  somebody  come  to  me?"  She 
thought  she  had  wakened  in  the  middle  of 
the  night  in  her  bed  at  Rainbow  Lodge. 
Poor  Jack  put  out  her  hand  to  touch  Jean, 
who  usually  slept  with  her,  and  her  fingers 
closed  on  some  loose  mud  and  gravel.  She 
held  it  for  a  moment  and  struggled  to  sit 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  123 

up,  but  her  head  ached  harder  than  ever, 
and  she  reached  back  to  find  her  lost  pillow. 
There  was  only  the  earth  to  touch  again, 
and  slowly  her  consciousness  returned.  Jack 
stumbled  to  her  feet  and  made  for  the  faint 
light  at  the  tunnel  entrance.  She  took  a 
few  uncertain  steps  and  sank  down  in  a  little 
heap  on  the  outside  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
hills.  Drops  of  rain  were  falling,  and  the  wind 
whistled  through  the  tops  of  the  tallest  pine 
trees  and  swirled  around  the  crests  of  the 
lonely  hills.  "Jim!  Jim!  surely  you  haven't 
left  me!77  Jack  cried  aloud.  She  was  not 
usually  timid  or  nervous,  but  the  deserted 
place  had  alarmed  her  when  she  came  to  it 
early  in  the  afternoon.  Now  she  was  alone 
in  it,  and  about  to  face  a  fierce  summer  storm. 
Dulled  by  the  pain  in  her  head  and  by  hunger 
and  thirst,  for  Jim  had  carried  the  food  and 
water  bottle  away  in  his  pockets,  she  was 
uncertain  as  to  how  she  had  come  to  the 
mine  and  whether  she  would  ever  be  able  to 
keep  to  the  return  trail. 

Jack's  face  was  white  and  her  expression 
unusual,  while  just  over  her  temple  there 
was  an  ugly  bruise,  and  she  did  not  feel  able 
to  think  clearly.  Once  she  put  her  hand  to 
her  head  and  was  surprised  to  find  her  hair 


124        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

damp  with  wisps  of  wet  curls  streaking  her 
forehead.  Then  she  wondered  what  had  be 
come  of  her  hat.  An  instant  later  she  knew 
she  had  dropped  it  off  her  head  when  she 
fell  inside  the  mine,  but  nothing  would  have 
induced  her  to  go  in  again  to  find  it.  If 
Jim  came  back,  perhaps  he  or  Carlos  would 
get  it  for  her.  Sometimes  she  was  not  cer 
tain  of  whether  Jim  and  Carlos  had  just 
gone  away  for  a  few  minutes  or  whether  she 
had  been  waiting  for  them  a  great  many' 
hours.  Then  she  pictured  them  back  at  their 
tent  in  the  green  place  by  the  quiet  stream, 
and  wondered  what  they  would  do  when  she 
did  not  come. 

It  began  to  rain  harder  and  faster  in  big 
pelting  drops;  lumps  of  hail  beat  down  on 
Jack's  shoulders  and  unprotected  head.  She 
ran  to  the  woods  to  hide,  but  the  place  was 
so  sodden  and  wet  and  ghostly  in  the  twilight 
that  she  would  not  enter  it.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  try  to  find  her  way  back 
to  camp  alone.  Jack  thought  her  head  ached 
less  and  her  decision  a  wise  one.  She  did  not 
realize  that  her  friends  could  return  to  the 
old  mine  for  her,  but  once  missing  the  trail 
back  to  them  she  would  be  utterly  lost  in  the 
wilderness.  Jack  recalled  that  several  miles 


MINER'S  FOLLY." 


ahead  there  was  a  deep  gorge  with  high  walls 
on  either  side  of  it,  and  that  she  and  Jim 
and  Carlos  had  followed  a  path  at  the  side 
of  this  ravine  for  a  part  of  their  journey. 
She  would  strike  out  across  the  open  country, 
feeling  sure  that  its  high  walls  could  soon  be 
seen  rising  like  a  wall  of  mist  beyond  the 
rain. 

Flying  along  on  feet  unconscious  of  fatigue, 
fighting  through  the  storm  and  darkness  and 
calling  aloud  when  she  had  the  strength,  in 
about  an  hour  Jack  reached  the  ravine.  No 
actual  sight  of  the  trail  had  guided  her,  but 
an  instinctive  feeling  for  the  right  direction. 
Now  she  sat  down  for  a  few  minutes  in  the 
shelter  of  an  overhanging  rock,  hoping  the 
storm  would  blow  over  or  that  Jim  would 
find  her.  But  the  thunder  crashed  on,  and 
the  wind  in  the  jagged  rocks  of  the  ravine 
moaned  and  sighed  like  lost  souls  wandering 
in  the  walled  chambers  of  the  canyons,  crying 
for  release.  Had  she  ever  been  rash  enough 
to  say  she  loved  the  splendid  western  storms? 
Jack  asked  herself.  Yes,  even  in  her  terror 
and  loneliness  she  realized  there  was  some 
thing  magnificent  and  awe-inspiring  in  their 
sudden  fury  and  abandon,  as  though  nature, 
yielding  to  a  burst  of  elemental  passion, 


126        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

poured  forth  her  anger  on  the  earth  in  the 
sweeping  rain  and  furious  charges  of  elec 
tricity. 

When  half  an  hour  passed,  the  young  girl 
crept  out  of  her  hiding  place.  Perhaps  the 
storm  was  less  severe;  anyhow,  she  would 
rather  face  any  fate  than  remain  in  the  gorge 
all  night.  It  was  now  too  dark  to  see  any 
thing  except  the  vague  outlines  of  rocks  and 
bunches  of  low  shrubs.  For  a  moment  Jack 
stood  still,  trying  to  remember  whether  she 
should  turn  to  the  right  or  left,  and  straining 
her  eyes  to  catch  sight  of  a  familiar  object 
that  might  help  her  to  decide.  Then  she 
moved  off  in  exactly  the  wrong  direction, 
with  each  step  getting  farther  and  farther 
away  from  her  friends  and  shelter. 

Trained  to  a  knowledge  of  animal  life  in 
the  plains  of  the  great  West,  Jacqueline  knew 
the  call  of  almost  every  wild  beast  that  is 
still  native  to  the  uncivilized  portions  of  the 
western  states.  After  walking  for  another 
hour,  a  sound  filled  her  with  horror.  It  was 
the  low  cry  of  a  cougar!  A  thicket  of  trees 
and  underbrush  bordered  one  side  of  her 
path;  on  the  other,  lay  the  deep  hollow  of 
the  ravine.  And  it  had  just  begun  to  dawn 
on  Jack  that  she  was  going  in  the  wrong 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  127 

direction;  she  had  passed  by  no  such  dense 
shrubbery  in  her  morning  journey.  But  this 
was  not  the  time  to  turn  back,  nor  must  she 
show  hesitation  or  fear,  well  knowing  that 
the  wild  creature  behind  her  would  dog  the 
footsteps  of  a  solitary  traveler,  keeping  only 
a  short  distance  away,  like  a  hungry  wolf, 
and  though  a  coward  at  heart,  spring  upon 
her  if  she  showed  weakness  or  defeat. 

Digging  her  nails  in  the  palms  of  her 
hands,  Jacqueline  crashed  on,  shouting  when 
she  could.  A  little  while  before,  she  had  felt 
ill  and  deadly  tired;  now,  forgetting  both, 
her  old  courage  revived.  In  the  tragedies  of 
the  afternoon,  her  rifle  had  been  forgotten  and 
left  outside  the  mine,  but  the  big  cat  back 
of  her  would  never  dare  attack  her  if  she  kept 
steadily  on,  frightening  it  by  loud  shouting 
and  trampling. 

How  far  Jack  walked  that  night  she  never 
knew.  There  were  times  when  the  cougar 
kept  back  of  her,  then  he  seemed  to  be  walk 
ing  along  by  her  side  in  the  shelter  of  the 
thicket.  Now  and  then  Jack  believed  he 
slipped  in  front  of  her,  crouching  in  a  clump 
of  underbrush,  but  she  never  once  caught 
sight  of  the  big  furtive  cat,  though  she  was 
always  conscious  of  the  presence  slinking  near 


128         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

her.  If  it  is  necessary  to  prove  that  the 
modern  American  girl  still  has  the  nerve  and 
fortitude  of  her  pioneer  grandmother,  Jac 
queline  Ralston  proved  it  that  night.  Not 
for  a  moment  did  she  falter  in  her  long  march 
in  the  darkness. 

A  few  hours  before  daylight  the  rain  sud 
denly  ceased  and  the  stars  came  out  as  though 
the  storm  had  not  interrupted  the  usual  hour 
of  their  appearance.  Now  Jack  could  rest  at 
last!  Having  come  through  the  wooded  place, 
her  enemy  no  longer  pursued  her.  There 
were  no  more  rocks  ahead.  She  had  reached 
the  end  of  the  gorge;  the  country  beyond 
was  a  well-nigh  unbroken  plain. 

A  few  yards  farther  on  the  young  girl 
spied,  like  a  dim  sentinel,  the  outline  of  a 
solitary  tree  with  its  close,  low  branches 
sweeping  the  ground.  Even  in  the  darkness 
of  night  she  knew  a  comfortable  shelter  could 
be  found  in  it,  for  its  beautiful  boughs  ex 
tended  in  a  solid  mass  of  foliage  from  its 
crown  to  its  base,  so  the  rain  could  scarcely 
have  soaked  through  them.  Jack  crawled 
into  the  cradle-shaped  branches  and  lay  down 
to  wait  for  the  dawn  and  whatever  the  new 
day  might  bring  forth,  wondering  if  she  were 
too  tired  to  care  what  happened  to  her  or  if 


"MINER'S  FOLLY."  129 

she  had  earned  any  shadow  of  right  to  the 
title  Carlos  had  once  given  her:  "The  Girl 
Who  Was  Never  Afraid." 

It  never  dawned  on  her  that  sleep  could 
come;  but  before  the  lamps  in  the  sky 
went  out  she  had  journeyed  to  that  dim 
country  where  we  find  strength  for  the  next 
day's  need. 


CHAPTER  X 

BY  THE   WAYSIDE   TENT 

HARDLY  had  the  three  more  adven 
turous  members  of  the  caravan  party 
turned  their  backs  on  their  wayside 
tent  for  their  trip  to  the  far-off  gold  mine, 
when  Ruth,  Jean,  Olive  and  Frieda  were 
seized  with  a  furious  attack  of  housewifely 
energy.  Everything  was  routed  out  of  the 
tent  and  wagon.  A  flapping  line  of  blankets 
hung  on  Jim's  best  lasso,  which  was  stretched 
from  a  tree  to  a  tent  pole.  Then  the  girls 
collected  their  laundry  and  carried  it  down 
to  the  brook.  The  water  of  the  stream  was 
so  clear  that  every  pebble  shone  under  it 
like  a  jewel,  and  the  sand  was  as  white  as 
the  sand  of  the  sea.  Over  a  shimmering  pool 
a  broad,  flat  rock  formed  a  comfortable  plat 
form. 

Jean  and  Ruth  got  down  on  their  knees 
on  this  stone,  swashing  their  clothes  up  and 
down  and  smearing  them  with  big  bars  of 
soap,  like  the  laundresses  in  Holland,  until 

(130) 


BY  THE  WAYSIDE  TENT.  131 

the  clear  water  of  the  brook  was  a  mass  of 
iridescent  soap  bubbles. 

Olive  and  Frieda  rinsed  and  squeezed  and 
spread  the  clothes  out  on  the  grass  or  hung 
them  picturesquely  over  the  low  bushes.  At 
the  end  of  their  labors,  Frieda  and  Jean 
started  a  shadow  dance  with  a  big  red  table 
cloth  which  Ruth  had  washed  none  too  clean. 
Jean  flapped  it  from  one  end,  Frieda  swirled 
it  from  the  other;  it  flew  up  in  the  air  like 
a  red  ballon  and  collapsed  just  as  suddenly. 
Ruth  and  Olive  rested  in  a  patch  of  sunshine 
watching  them.  Suddenly  Jean  attempted  to 
twist  her  unwieldy  scarf  into  graceful  curves 
about  Frieda,  but  instead,  tripped  her  up, 
and  the  little  girl  lay  in  a  heap  of  helpless 
laughter  on  the  grass.  Straightway,  Jean 
flung  herself  down  beside  her,  beginning  to 
unwind  her  long  braids  of  hair. 

"Ruth,  make  Frieda  let  me  wash  her  hair," 
Jean  urged.  "She  doesn't  look  like  our 
pretty  blond  baby  any  more,  but  a  poor, 
neglected  'orfling.'  I  am  sure  if  she  lies 
down  flat  on  the  rock,  I  can  manage  so  she 
won't  tumble  into  the  brook." 

Frieda  crawled  out  of  Jean's  embrace> 
looking  quite  unresigned  to  the  experience 
ahead  of  her.  "You  shan't  do  any  such 


132        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

thing,  Jean  Bruce/'  she  protested;  "you'll 
get  gallons  of  soap  in  my  eyes  and  make  me 
all  sandy. " 

Jean  struck  a  dramatic  attitude.  "Frieda 
Ralston,  if  you  will  let  me  make  you  beauti 
ful,  I  will  give  you  all  my  share  of  the  gold 
that  Jim  and  Jack  bring  back  from  the  mine/' 
she  exclaimed. 

Frieda  shook  her  head.  "They  won't 
bring  any  gold/'  she  said  firmly. 

"But  you'll  feel  lots  better,  Frieda,"  Ruth 
begged. 

Frieda  saw  that  the  weight  of  opinion  was 
against  her,  and,  besides,  she  was  vain  of  her 
hair  and  did  wish  it  to  look  pretty  again,  so 
she  gave  in  graceiously. 

"All  right,  Jean,  if  you  will  ride  horseback 
with  me  all  day  to-morrow  and  make  Olive 
and  Jack  ride  in  the  wagon,  I  guess  I  will 
let  you,"  she  conceded. 

Jean  had  the  sleeves  of  her  shirtwaist 
rolled  up  past  her  dimpled  elbows  and  the 
collar  of  her  white  blouse  tucked  in  at  the 
neck.  She  felt  as  much  at  home  by  the 
wayside  pool  as  she  did  in  Rainbow  Lodge. 
Frieda  was  wrapped  in  a  white  towel  like  a 
shawl.  Only  once,  toward  the  end  of  the 
washing  operation,  did  she  utter  a  squeal  of 


BY  THE   WAYSIDE  TENT.  133 

indignation,  and  Ruth  and  Olive  immediately 
ran  to  her  rescue. 

" Jean's  caught  a  minnow  in  my  hair/' 
she  insisted  wrathfully,  with  her  face  very 
red.  "I  saw  the  tiniest  one  sailing  down  the 
brook  by  me,  and  then  all  at  once  it  disap 
peared,  and  I  am  sure  I  can  feel  it  wriggling 
on  my  neck." 

Ruth  made  a  careful  examination  of  the 
clean  yellow  hair  before  Frieda  would  be 
reconciled.  Then  she  led  the  small  girl 
away  to  a  sunshiny  spot,  spreading  her  hair 
over  her  shoulders  to  dry,  until  she  looked 
like  the  original  "Miss  Goldilocks"  in  the 
old  fairy  tale.  Frieda  was  given  a  piece  of 
scalloping,  which  she  had  been  working  on 
for  weeks,  to  keep  her  quiet. 

"Jean,"  Ruth  called  a  minute  later,  "do 
you  mind  staying  here  with  Frieda  for  a  little 
while?  Olive  and  I  have  to  go  foraging  for 
some  chips  before  we  can  make  the  fire  burn 
for  luncheon,  naughty  Carlos  having  deserted 
us.  Do  you  think  you  can  make  yourself 
lovely  and  keep  an  eye  on  things  at  the  same 
time?" 

Jean  nodded  peacefully  from  her  throne  of 
rocks,  though  a  minute  before  she  had  been 
hot  from  her  exertions  and  angry  at  Frieda's 


134        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

ingratitude.  "Sure,  as  my  name  is  Jean 
Bruce,  I  can,"  she  answered  cheerfully,  let 
ting  down  the  masses  of  her  dark-brown  hair. 
She  made  such  a  pretty  picture  that  Ruth 
watched  her  smilingly  for  a  few  minutes. 
She  thought  she  loved  all  the  girls  alike  now, 
but  Jack  and  Olive  were  her  friends  and  Jean 
and  Frieda  her  children.  She  guessed  her 
business  of  playing  chaperon  to  the  ranch 
girls  would  not  be  an  easy  one,  if  ever  Jean 
got  away  from  their  western  life  into  the 
gay  society  world  of  which  she  dreamed  and 
talked. 

But  no  frivolous  ideas  of  a  society  exist 
ence  now  engaged  Miss  Bruce's  attention,  and 
she  had  no  more  idea  of  being  disturbed  than 
if  she  had  been  the  original  lady  in  the  Gar 
den  of  Eden.  Jean  was  indeed  the  nut- 
brown  maid  of  whom  old-fashioned  poets 
loved  to  write.  Her  hair  had  no  golden  tones 
in  it;  only  the  rich  browns  of  the  autumn 
woods,  and  her  eyes  matched  it  in  color. 
She  was  paler  than  the  other  ranch  girls, 
with  a  soft,  healthy  pallor,  although  to-day 
a  little  tanned  and  rosier  than  usual  from  her 
week's  trip  in  the  caravan. 

Frieda  glanced  around  to  see  Jean  leaning 
over  the  water  with  her  hair  covering  her 


BY  THE  WAYSIDE  TENT.  135 

face.  It  did  not  seem  worth  while  to  disturb 
her,  so  without  a  word,  Frieda  slipped  away 
to  their  tent  to  search  for  more  thread  for 
her  sewing. 

Jean  could  not  hear  very  well  at  this  time 
had  she  spoken,  for  the  brook  made  a  roary, 
gurgling  noise  of  its  own  in  her  ears,  and  her 
head  swam  from  being  held  upside  down  so 
long. 

"  Crunch,  crunch,  crunch."  Some  one  was 
marching  along  the  side  of  the  stream  right 
in  her  direction.  Jean  did  not  trouble  to 
take  her  hair  out  of  the  water  or  to  look 
around.  Of  course  it  could  be  no  one  but 
Frieda! 

"Well,  I  never  in  all  my  life!"  she  heard 
a  perfectly  strange  masculine  voice  exclaim. 
"I  know  I  have  walked  straight  into  fairy 
land,  and  you  must  be  the  queen  who  has 
brought  all  th'is  magic  to  pass  over  night, 
for  I  passed  this  stream  just  two  days  ago 
and  there  wasn't  a  sign  of  a  tent  or  a  caravan 
or  a  princess  anywhere  around." 

Jean  flung  back  her  long,  brown  hair  with 
a  gasp  of  sheer  surprise,  and  the  drops  of 
crystal  water  showered  around  her  like  the 
diamonds  that  fell  from  the  mouth  of  the 
good  sister  in  the  fairy  story. 


136        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"I  have  been  washing  my  hair/7  she  an 
nounced  to  the  strange  youth,  and  then  be 
cause  her  explanation  was  so  obvious,  they 
both  laughed.  "You  see,  I  hadn't  the  faint 
est  idea  anybody  could  turn  up  in  this  wilder 
ness  except  us/'  she  explained,  not  very  gram 
matically.  "We  are  making  a  caravan  trip 
through  the  state." 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  say  I  am  awfully 
sorry  I  intruded,"  the  young  fellow  answered. 
.."Of  course,  you  know,  I  would  say  it  if  I  had 
bobbed  into  a  lady's  boudoir  unexpectedly, 
but  I  am  so  glad  to  see  some  one  in  this 
out-of-the-way  place  that  I  haven't  a  social 
fib  at  my  disposal.  Don't  you  think  you 
could  let  me  stop  to  rest  and  perhaps  talk 
to  you  a  few  minutes?" 

Jean  drew  herself  up  in  an  effort  to  look 
as  dignified  and  unapproachable  as  she  felt 
sure  Jack  and  Olive  would  have  done  under 
the  same  circumstances.  Far  be  it  from  either 
of  them  to  engage  in  a  friendly  conversation 
with  a  stranger,  even  in  a  trackless  waste; 
but  to  save  her  life  Jean  couldn't  keep  her 
eyes  from  shining  mischievously.  The  water 
was  trickling  down  her  back  until  her  shoul 
ders  were  damp  through  her  shirtwaist. 
Knowing  she  looked  dreadfully  foolish,  she 


BY  THE  WAYSIDE  TENT.  13? 

could  not  make  up  her  mind  to  do  any 
thing  so  unattractive  as  deliberately  to  squeeze 
the  water  out  of  her  hair  or  roll  up  her  head 
in  a  towel  before  this  handsome  young  fellow, 

He  was  somewhat  older  than  Donald  HaiN 
mon  or  Frank  Kent,  and  his  eyes  were  as  blue 
and  his  hair  as  golden  as  Siegfried's,  thought 
romantic  Jean,  if  only  he  were  dressed  in  a 
suit  of  silver  armor  instead  of  dust-covered 
corduroys.  The  traveler  had  a  knapsack 
strapped  over  his  shoulders  and  a  gun  in  huj 
hand;  his  whole  appearance  suggested  a  long 
tramp. 

Jean  gazed  at  him  meaningly.  Ordinary 
intelligence  might  suggest  to  him  that  he 
turn  his  back  for  a  few  minutes  while  she 
repaired  her  damaged  toilet,  but  the  young 
fellow  evidently  had  no  such  amiable  inten 
tion.  He  seated  himself  by  the  edge  of  the 
brook  a  few  feet  from  Jean.  "My  name  is 
Ralph  Merrit.  Fm  a  mining  engineer,"  he 
announced  briefly. 

Jean  slightly  inclined  her  wet  head.  "If 
you  don't  mind,  I  must  beg  you  to  excuse 
me?"  she  returned  as  haughtily  as  even  Jack 
could  have  desired.  Suddenly  she  made  up 
her  mind  to  snub  this  uncomfortably  stupid 
acquaintance.  Off  she  marched  in  as  stately 


138        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

a  fashion  as  possible,  when  one  considers  her 
damp,  flowing  locks  and  the  fact  that  she 
had  to  pick  her  way  through  their  various 
articles  of  laundry  spread  on  the  grass. 

Inside  the  security  of  the  tent  Jean  rubbed 
her  hair  vigorously  and  waved  it  energetically 
through  the  opening  at  the  door,  so  it  might 
dry  as  soon  as  possible.  Frieda  stationed  her 
self  outside  the  tent  so  as  to  communicate 
all  possible  information  about  the  intruder  to 
Jean. 

"Has  he  gone  yet?"  Jean  inquired  for  the 
fifth  time  in  ten  minutes. 

Frieda  shook  her  head.  "He  isn't  going  for 
a  long  time,  Jeanie,  I  believe/'  she  returned. 
"He  is  sitting  by  our  brook  just  as  though  he 
never  means  to  leave  it.  Now  he  has  gotten 
up  and  is  drinking  some  water.  Now  he  is 
washing  his  face/7  she  whispered  excitedly, 
"and  is  taking  a  mirror  out  of  his  pocket  to 
prink." 

Jean  and  Frieda  giggled  and  Jean  joined 
her  little  cousin  out  of  doors.  She  had  piled 
her  hair  in  a  loose,  damp  mass  on  top  of  her 
head,  for  she  was  now  determined,  with  Frieda 
for  a  chaperon,  gently  but  firmly  to  persuade 
the  young  man  to  leave  their  Adamless  Eden. 

"Oh,"  said  Jean,  as,  holding  fast  to  Frieda's 


BY  THE  WAYSIDE  TENT.  139 

hand,  she  got  within  speaking  distance  of  the 
stranger,  "are  you  still  here?"  As  there  was 
nothing  in  the  world  to  interrupt  Miss  Bruce's 
vision  of  the  young  man,  even  if  she  had 
been  hopelessly  near-sighted,  he  was  obliged 
to  understand  her  meaning.  Coloring  hotly 
under  his  already  rosy  skin,  he  got  up. 

"I  thought  you  wouldn't  mind  if  I  rested 
a  bit,"  he  explained.  "I  have  been  tramping 
around  this  neighborhood  for  the  last  two 
days  and  I  was  counting  on  slowing  up 
when  I  got  back  to  this  place.  I  need  to 
fill  my  water  bottles.  And  look  here,  I  won 
der  if  you  would  give  me  something  to  eat. 
You  don't  know  it,  but  it  is  a  custom  for 
travelers  of  the  open  road  to  help  each  other 
out." 

Ralph  Merrit  knew  he  had  never  seen  a 
girl  whose  expression  changed  as  swiftly  as 
Jean's.  A  minute  before,  her  eyes  had  been 
cool  and  reserved,  and  now  they  were  brim 
ming  pools  of  kindness. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  you  are  hungry.  I'll 
get  you  something  to  eat  right  away,"  she 
replied  sympathetically.  "If  you  will  stay 
until  Cousin  Ruth  and  Olive  come  back  I 
know  they  will  invite  you  to  lunch.  I  am 
sure  you  will  tell  how  you  happened  to  turn 


140        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

up  here,  and,  of  course,  I  can  see  you  are  a 
gentleman/'  she  ended. 

Ralph's  face  flushed  gratefully,  "You  are 
awfully  kind/'  he  murmured,  and  then  all 
at  once  Frieda  saved  the  situation  from  further 
embarrassment.  Suddenly  she  thrust  into 
the  young  man's  hand  a  large,  red  apple  and 
a  cracker,  which  she  had  concealed  in  her 
apron  pocket.  She  had  been  foraging  on  her 
own  account  inside  their  tent,  but  had  for 
gotten  her  provisions  in  the  interest  of  Jean's 
discovery. 

Ten  minutes  later  Ruth  and  Olive  appeared 
on  the  scene,  swinging  a  large  basket  of  chips 
and  pine  cones  between  them.  In  amaze 
ment  they  set  down  their  basket  and  stared 
at  a  three  cornered  group  composed  of  Jean, 
Frieda  and  a  strange  young  man,  seated  com 
fortably  on  the  ground,  laughing  and  talk 
ing  and  lunching  on  their  best  jam  and  pickles 
and  bread. 


CHAPTER  XI 

"WHERE'S  JACK?" 

RALPH  MERRIT  explained  his  unex 
pected  appearance  to  Ruth  in  a  far 
more  conventional  fashion  than  Jean 
had  required.  He  was  a  native  of  Chicago, 
a  graduate  of  a  mining  school,  and  had  come 
west  to  see  if  he  could  make  his  living  by 
testing  the  gold  deposits  in  the  mining  camps 
in  the  northwest  states.  Two  miners  had 
induced  him  to  go  with  them  to  an  old  mine 
not  far  away  to  see  if  their  discoveries  of 
gold  deposits  were  of  value.  When  the  find 
turned  out  to  be  no  good,  the  men  had  slipped 
away,  leaving  him,  and  not  only  refusing  to 
pay  what  they  had  promised  for  his  services, 
but  stealing  all  the  money  he  had  with  him. 
For  the  past  two  days  the  young  man  had 
been  scouring  the  country  for  the  thieves, 
but  he  now  believed  they  had  gotten  to  some 
town  and  were  safely  out  of  his  reach. 

"I  should  be  awfully  grateful  to  you,  Miss 
Drew,  if  you  would  tell  me  the  way  to  the 

041) 


142        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

nearest  village/'  Ralph  Merrit  said  at  the 
end  of  his  story.  "I  am  green  about  this  part 
of  the  country  and  don't  know  in  what  direc 
tion  to  move  on." 

Ruth  shook  her  head.  "I  am  afraid  I 
don't  know  either/'  she  confessed,  "but  if 
you  will  spend  the  day  here  with  us  until 
our  guide,  Mr.  Colter,  comes  back,  he  will 
tell  you  anything  you  wish  to  know." 

Ralph  accepted  the  invitation  gratefully, 
although  he  hardly  guessed  what  a  concession 
it  represented.  A  year  before,  when  Ruth 
Drew  left  Vermont,  she  had  never  spoken 
to  a  man  in  her  life  without  a  formal  intro 
duction,  and  now  she  was  inviting  a  stranger 
to  spend  the  day  with  her  and  the  three  girls 
in  the  woods.  But  Ruth  never  doubted  the 
story  Ralph  -Men-it  had  told  her  for  a  mo 
ment,  although  it  was  an  unusual  one.  No 
one  who  was  a  judge  of  character  ever  doubted 
'Ralph.  He  was  a  straightforward,  manly, 
determined  fellow,  with  a  strong  will  and  a 
sense  of  humor — one  of  the  most  delightful 
combinations  in  the  world — and  from  the 
first  hour  of  their  acquaintance  he  was  a 
special  favorite  with  Ruth  and  later  with 
Jim  Colter. 

For  several  hours,  Ralph  made  himself  a 


"WHERE'S  JACK?"  143 

useful  visitor,  insisting  on  bringing  in  fresh 
stores  of  wood,  as  he  assured  his  hostesses 
their  stock  would  never  last  over  night,  and 
they  would  desire  to  keep  up  a  particularly 
brilliant  fire  as  a  beacon  light  to  the  wander 
ers  from  camp. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Ruth 
suggested  that  the  five  of  them  take  a  walk 
to  find  out  the  source  of  the  little  stream, 
which  made  such  a  wonderful  oasis  in  the 
stretch  of  sandy  desert.  After  a  few  miles, 
Ruth,  Olive  and  Frieda  sat  down  to  rest, 
while  Jean  and  Ralph  carried  on  their  ex 
plorations.  They  had  caught  a  splendid  lot 
of  fish,  but  Ralph  had  his  gun  with  him  and 
hoped  to  get  some  game  for  their  supper. 
The  young  man  and  girl  had  talked  to  each 
other  for  the  past  few  hours,  but  now  they 
seemed  to  feel  well  enough  acquainted  to 
keep  silent  and  enjoy  the  exquisite  beauty  of 
the  scenery.  They  had  wandered  to  the 
source  of  the  brook.  Trickling  down  from  the 
base  of  a  low  hill,  it  was  circled  by  a  grove  of 
cottonwood  and  spruce  trees.  Jean  and 
Ralph  hid  in  the  underbrush  and  got  softly 
down  on  their  knees  so  as  to  make  no  possible 
noise,  for  they  saw  a  few  yards  ahead  a 
delicate,  dappled  fawn,  with  its  nose  deep  in 


144        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

the  clear  water.  Its  sides  were  of  a  light 
gray  and  brown,  its  legs  like  slender  staves, 
and  its  long  ears  as  soft  and  sensitive  as  any 
created  thing.  The  scene  was  so  beautiful 
that  Jean's  eyes  grew  suddenly  misty  with 
tears. 

Ralph  also  felt  a  quiver  of  excitement 
stiffen  his  arm.  His  companion  was  behind 
him  and  out  of  any  possible  danger,  the  fawn 
was  in  direct  range  of  his  gun  and  as  yet 
unconscious  of  his  presence. 

The  young  man  lifted  his  gun,  took  direct 
aim,  and  his  fingers  pressed  the  trigger.  At 
the  same  instant  the  gun  kicked  up  in  the  air, 
exploded  and  the  shot  went  wide  of  its  mark. 
For  one  quivering  instant  the  fawn  gazed  at 
the  hunter,  its  big  brown  eyes  full  of  terror 
and  reproach,  and  then  with  a  bound  was  off 
through  the  trees  and  out  of  sight. 

"How  could  you,  Miss  Bruce?"  Ralph  de 
manded  indignantly,  turning  on  Jean.  ' '  If  you 
hadn't  struck  the  butt  of  my  gun  I  should 
have  gotten  that  deer  and  we  would  have  had 
fresh  meat  for  a  week/'  He  stopped  abruptly. 
Jean's  eyes  were  as  wide  open  and  brown 
and  frightened  as  the  fawn's  and  her  body 
trembled  just  as  delicately. 

"How  could  you?"  she  replied  brokenly. 


'How   COULD   You,   Miss    BRUCE?"   RALPH   DEMANDED 
INDIGNANTLY. 


"WHERE'S  JACK?"  145 

"I  couldn't  bear  to  have  you  kill  that  lovely, 
gentle  thing.  I  can't  help  it,  I  hate  people 
who  kill  things.  But  if  you  think  you  will  be 
hungry  because  of  what  I  did,  I'll  get  Ruth 
and  Jim  to  let  me  give  you  some  of  my  share 
of  our  food  in  the  caravan,"  and  Jean  marched 
back  to  her  friends  and  would  have  nothing 
more  to  say  to  her  companion  for  the  rest 
of  the  day. 

Just  before  tea  time,  the  storm  that  had 
overtaken  the  travelers  to  the  deserted  mine 
gathered  over  the  little  party,  who  were 
resting  near  the  tent.  Ruth  and  the  girls 
tried  their  best  to  fight  down  their  fears, 
but  their  lips  and  eyes  asked  the  same  ques 
tion:  "How  were  Jim  and  Jack  and  Carlos 
to  fight  their  way  back  to  them  through  the 
darkness  and  rain  and  wind  with  only  the 
light  of  the  small  lantern  Jim  had  taken  with 
him  when  they  set  out?" 

Jean  and  Olive  got  a  hasty  supper,  while 
Ralph  Merrit  lashed  the  tent  ropes  more 
closely  to  the  ground,  found  what  shelter  he 
could  for  the  horses,  and  made  a  canopy  of 
pine  branches  over  the  fire,  so  that  the  down 
pour  of  rain  should  not  put  it  out.  It  was 
about  dusk  when  he  found  Ruth  and  Frieda 
standing  outside  their  tent  door  watching 

10 


146         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

with  white,  nervous  faces  the  big  clouds  roll 
together  in  a  black  mass. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  to  make  you 
more  comfortable,  Miss  Drew?"  Ralph  asked. 
"You  have  been  awfully  good  to  me,  and  I 
can't  tell  you  how  I  appreciate  it.  Why,  this 
day  with  you  has  been  almost  like  running 
across  my  own  people  here  in  this  wilderness. 
But  if  there  is  nothing  I  can  do,  I  had  best 
move  on  to  find  some  sort  of  shelter  for  the 
night  before  the  storm  gets  worse." 

Ruth  put  out  her  hand,  impulsively  clutch 
ing  Ralph's  coat  sleeve.  "Please,  please 
don't  leave  us  until  Mr.  Colter  and  Jack 
and  Carlos  return,"  she  begged.  "I  told 
them  I  would  not  be  worried  if  they  did  not 
get  back  until  quite  late,  but  this  storm  makes 
us  feel  so  much  more  lonely  and  frightened." 

Ralph  patted  Ruth's  hand  reassuringly. 
"Of  course  I  won't  go  if  you  would  like  me 
to  stay,"  he  answered  cheerfully.  "And  you 
mustn't  be  alarmed.  I'll  watch  the  fire  to 
keep  it  from  going  out,  and  when  your  friends 
return,  I'll  roost  in  a  tree,  like  'Monsieur 
Chantecler/  and  wake  you  first  thing  in  the 
morning." 

Ruth  smiled,  and  Olive,  who  had  come  out 
of  the  tent  with  Jean,  looked  less  forlorn  5 


"WHERE'S  JACK?"  147 

but  Jean,  although  she  was  devoutly  glad 
they  were  not  to  be  left  alone,  could  not 
cheer  up.  She  walked  apart  from  the  others, 
not  wishing  them  to  guess  how  uneasy  she 
felt  about  Jack.  Of  course  nothing  was 
going  to  happen,  but  she  wished  she  had  not 
accused  Jack  of  being  selfish  the  day  before. 

Ralph  Merrit  came  over  and  stood  silently 
at  Jean's  side  for  a  moment.  He  felt  twice 
her  age  and  was  actually  eight  years  older. 

"I  did  not  know  you  would  mind  my  shot 
this  afternoon,"  he  began  stiffly  in  the  fashion 
in  which  a  man  usually  apologizes.  "If  you 
had  been  brought  up  in  a  city  and  were  un 
used  to  hunting  I  might  have  understood  your 
feeling.  As  it  was  I " 

Jean's  cheeks  flushed  in  the  somber  twi 
light.  Already  the  first  drops  of  rain  were 
falling.  Ruth  was  calling  them  inside  the  tent. 

"I  hope  I  have  not  been  rude,"  she  said. 
"I  ought  to  have  explained  to  you  that  I 
can  never  bear  to  see  anything  killed.  My 
cousin,  Jack  Ralston,  and  the  overseer  of  our 
ranch,  Jim  Colter,  both  think  I  am  awfully 
silly  because  I  never  go  hunting  with  them 
even  when  they  are  after  wild  game,  though 
I  can  shoot  pretty  well.  But  when  a  bird  or 
animal  is  full  of  motion  and  maybe  joy,  why, 


148        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

to  see  it  stiff  and  cold  all  of  a  sudden  and  to 

know  you  can  never  make  it  alive  again " 

Jean's  voice  broke  off  abruptly.  She  did  not 
care  to  show  emotion  to  a  stranger. 

"I  understand/'  Ralph  answered  slowly. 
"I  believe  I  would  like  to  have  nrr  sister  feel 
that  way.  I  know  you  have  not  asked  it  of 
me,  and  we  may  never  meet  again,  but  so 
long  as  I  live  I  shall  never  kill  anything 
lonless  I  positively  need  it  for  food,  or  am 
trying  to  protect  some  one." 

For  several  hours  Ruth,  the  girls  and  their 
guest  huddled  inside  their  tent  waiting  for 
the  storm  to  pass  and  the  wanderers  to  re 
turn.  The  rain  beat  in  until  their  waterproof 
cloaks  were  hung  over  the  slits  and  openings, 
and  then,  in  spite  of  the  coldness  of  the  night 
outside,  the  air  in  the  tent  grew  close  and 
heavy.  Ruth  did  her  best  to  keep  up  a  con 
versation  with  Ralph,  but  Jean  and  Olive 
sat  on  a  pile  of  sofa  cushions  with  their  arms 
about  each  other,  waiting,  listening  for  some 
sound  that  would  tell  them  the  wayfarers 
were  almost  home.  Frieda  had  fallen  asleep 
in  a  weary  lump  on  a  cot,  with  a  tear  of  sheer 
lonesomeness  for  Jack  not  yet  dry  on  her 
pink  cheek. 

Suddenly  the  girls  jumped  to  their  feet 


"WHERE'S  JACK?"  149 

and  Frieda  rolled  off  the  cot.  From  afar  off 
they  heard  Jim's  familiar  whistle  and  long, 
cheerful  call.  Ralph  Merrit  rushed  out  to 
pile  the  fire  with  the  pine  cones  and  logs 
they  had  been  keeping  dry  inside  the  tent. 
Jean  and  Olive  lit  the  extra  candles  they  had 
been  saving  all  evening.  The  rain  having 
almost  ceased,  Ruth  flung  a  mackintosh 
about  her  and  ran  forth  to  follow  the  sound 
of  Jim's  voice. 

"Home  at  last!"  thought  Jim  Colter  hap 
pily,  his  worry  and  uncertainty  slipping  from 
him  as  he  caught  the  distant  gleam  of  the 
camp-fire.  For  many  miles  after  leaving  the 
mine  he  had  hurried  on,  expecting  each 
moment  to  overtake  Jack  and  Carlos.  Then 
fearing  they  might  have  lost  their  way,  he 
turned  aside  at  every  doubtful  place  along 
the  trail,  searching  and  calling  their  names 
until  he  was  hoarse.  Not  only  w^as  he  torn 
with  anxiety  at  the  loss  of  his  fellow-truants, 
but  uneasy  about  Ruth  and  the  girls  alone 
in  a  tent  in  a  fierce  summer  tempest.  Now 
his  journey  was  almost  over,  he  believed  Jack 
and  Carlos  had  traveled  fast  and  were  safe 
within  their  own  shelter.  The  vision  of 
Ruth's  pretty  figure  battling  toward  him 
through  the  wind  seemed  a  good  omen. 


150        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Both  of  them  stretched  out  their  hands. 
"Where's  Jack?"  they  cried  in  the  same 
breath.  And  Ruth  was  glad  she  had  caught 
Jim's  big  hands  in  her  warm  ones,  for  the 
great,  self-controlled  overseer  of  the  Rain 
bow  Ranch  shook  like  a  child  in  a  chill. 
"  Aren't  Jack  and  Carlos  with  you?"  he 
queried  hoarsely.  And  Ruth  shook  her  head, 
drawing  him,  stumbling  like  a  blind  man,  to 
their  camp-fire. 

All  night  long  she  sat  by  the  fire  with  him 
while  the  girls  and  Ralph  Merrit  made  coffee 
and  walked  back  and  forth  from  the  tent  to 
them.  No  one  thought  of  going  to  bed. 
Jim  wished  to  be  off  at  once  to  recommence 
his  search,  but  Ruth  persuaded  him  to  wait 
till  daylight.  For  his  sake  she  pretended  to 
believe  that  Jack  was  too  clever  not  to  have 
found  a  refuge  for  herself  and  Carlos  for  the 
night.  They  were  glad  that  the  little  Indian 
boy  had  run  away  with  Jim  and  Jack  to  the 
mine,  for  it  was  better  that  Jack  should  not 
be  alone. 

At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  a  light  footfall 
sounded  some  distance  away.  Jim  and  Ruth 
and  Ralph  Merrit  sprang  up  from  the  smoul 
dering  fire.  "It's  Jack!"  Ruth  cried  happily, 
so  that  Jean  and  Olive  and  Frieda  heard  her, 


"WHERE'S  JACK?"  151 

and  came  running  pale  and  breathless  from 
the  shelter  of  the  tent. 

Stealing  up  the  pathway  of  light  made  by 
the  first  streak  of  rose  color  in  the  sky  was 
little  *brown  Carlos,  but  he  walked  alone. 

"  Where's  Jack?"  called  everybody  this 
time.  And  Carlos  shook  his  head  uncertainly. 
He  could  not  understand.  There  stood  "The 
Big  White  Chief, "  and  certainly  he  must  have 
brought  their  companion  back  with  him. 
Why  did  they  ask  him  about  "The  Girl  Who 
Was  Never  Afraid7'?  He  was  only  a  little 
boy,  even  though  an  Indian;  he  was  hungry 
and  cold  and  tired  and  had  found  his  way 
all  alone  through  the  darkness  of  night  in  a 
strange  country,  and  no  one,  not  even  "The 
Princess/'  seemed  glad  to  see  him.  Carlos 
blinked,  but  his  bronze,  statuesque  face 
showed  absolutely  no  emotion.  He  dropped 
a  little  gray  ball  of  fur  on  the  ground,  which 
Frieda  picked  up  with  a  cry  of  pleasure. 


CHAPTER  XII 

CARLOS   MAKES   GOOD 

DON'T,  please,  Mr.  Colter!"  Olive 
faltered. 
Frieda  clutched  at  Jean's  skirts, 
with  big  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  Jean  stared 
at  the  scene  with  a  frightened  face.  Ralph 
Merrit  had  walked  some  distance  away  and 
Ruth  had  gone  back  to  their  tent,  worn  out 
by  her  second  disappointment  over  Jack's 
failure  to  return.  The  three  girls  who  re 
mained  had  rarely  seen  anyone  so  angry  as 
Jim  Colter.  He  had  not  spoken  when  Carlos 
first  returned;  now  he  made  the  boy  stand 
up  before  him  and  give  an  account  of  himself. 

Ruth  was  crying  when  she  heard  a  swish 
of  a  whip  through  the  air  and  thought  she 
caught  the  sound  of  a  sob  from  Frieda.  She 
listened  again.  Jim  was  speaking  in  a  voice 
she  did  not  know  he  could  use,  and  for  a 
minute  she  turned  quite  cold. 

"You  deserter/7  the  voice  said  harshly. 
"I  forgave  you  for  running  away  from  camp 

(152) 


CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD.  153 

this  morning,  when  I  told  you  to  stay  behind, 
and  then  when  I  leave  you  for  an  instant 
you  turn  traitor  the  second  time.  There  is 
no  blood  of  an  Indian  Chief  in  your  veins; 
they  at  least  keep  faith  with  their  friends." 
Swish!  Ruth  knew  the  whip  had  struck 
again. 

She  slipped  quietly  on  the  scene.  Olive 
and  Frieda  wrere  both  crying,  and  Jean  was 
biting  her  trembling  lips.  Jim's  face  was 
crimson  and  his  blue  eyes  blazed  as  only  a 
man's  can  who  is  slow  to  anger.  Only  Carlos 
stood  as  still  as  stone.  He  had  but  one  thin 
shirt  over  his  slender  body,  but  when  he 
staggered  it  was  from  fatigue  not  pain.  He 
bore  his  punishment  with  the  silence  and 
fortitude  of  an  Indian  warrior. 

Jim  had  lifted  his  stick  for  the  third  time 
and  this  blow  he  meant  to  make  the  severest 
of  all.  A  small,  white  hand  closed  over  the 
raised  whip.  "Stop,  Mr.  Jim,"  Ruth  said 
quietly.  "Carlos  is  a  child  and  whatever  he 
has  done  he  is  too  tired  for  you  to  punish 
him  now.  I  think  he  did  not  mean  to  desert 
Jack  any  more  than  you  did."  Ruth  did 
not  intend  her  words  as  a  reproach,  but 
Jim's  arm  dropped  quickly  to  his  side  and 
he  turned  so  pale  that  she  was  frightened. 


154        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"Take  Carlos  away  and  see  that  he  has  some 
thing  to  eat,"  he  ordered  Olive,  "and,  Jean, 
make  Frieda  stop  crying."  Without  glancing 
at  Ruth,  Jim  picked  up  a  flask  of  beef  tea, 
which  he  had  had  prepared  for  Jack's  return, 
and  without  another  word  set  out  to  search 
for  Jack. 

A  little  later  Ralph  Merrit  proposed  that 
he  too  should  go  out  to  reconnoiter.  Having 
also  met  with  misfortune  at  "Miner's  Folly," 
he  knew  the  country  all  about  the  neighbor 
hood.  The  young  man  was  saying  good-by 
to  Ruth  and  Frieda,  when  Jean's  face,  paler 
and  more  wistful  than  usual,  appeared  over 
her  chaperon's  shoulder. 

"Ruth,  dear,  Olive  and  I  want  to  go  with 
Mr.  Merrit  to  look  for  Jack,"  she  begged. 
"Yes,  I  know  it  is  awfully  selfish  of  us  to 
leave  you,  but  we  are  perfectly  worn  out 
with  waiting.  Besides,  Jack  don't  know  Mr. 
Merrit  and  he  will  never  be  able  to  persuade 
her  to  return  with  him." 

Ralph  laughed.  "Frieda,  won't  "you  give 
me  the  blue  ribbon  on  your  hair  to  prove 
to  your  sister  I  have  been  a  guest  of  the 
caravan  party?"  he  asked.  "Though,  of 
course,  I  don't  believe  she  would  be  so  ob 
stinate." 


CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD.  155 

Frieda  solemnly  unwound  the  band  of 
ribbon  which  she  used  to  keep  her  hair  out 
of  her  eyes,  and  Ralph  tied  it  in  his  button 
hole,  where  the  ends  floated  out  like  blue 
pennants;  but  understanding  their  impatience, 
Ruth  let  Olive  and  Jean  go  to  assist  in  the 
search  for  Jack. 

It  was  now  broad  daylight;  the  birds  were 
singing  and  the  sun  shining  with  the  peculiar 
brilliancy  that  follows  a  rain-washed  night. 
Ruth  put  Frieda  to  bed,  as  the  little  girl 
was  exhausted;  then  she  persuaded  Carlos  to 
lie  down  on  her  own  cot.  The  boy  had  said 
nothing,  only  he  never  let  go  the  gray  ball 
of  fur  which  he  had  brought  home  from  the 
woods,  but  kept  it  pressed  close  to  him. 
Ruth  had  no  idea  what  animal  Carlos  had 
found,  though  it  had  a  sharp,  pointed  nose, 
restless  eyes,  and  every  now  and  then  tore  at 
something  with  its  baby  teeth.  Hidden  near 
an  old  tree  in  the  woods  back  of  the  gold 
mine.  Carlos  had  run  across  a  baby  wolf  cub, 
and  having  a  curious  fellowship  with  animals, 
had  brought  it  back  with  him,  hoping  he 
might  be  allowed  to  raise  it  as  a  dog. 

The  ranch  girls  knew  of  Carlos'  strange 
communion  with  birds  and  beasts.  They 
would  come  at  his  call  and  eat  out  of  his 


156        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

brown  hand,  but  it  did  not  seem  remarkable 
to  them,  as  the  boy  had  lived  always  in  the 
open  and  was  only  a  half-tamed  creature 
himself. 

Ruth  left  the  children  alone  in  the  tent. 
Fifteen  minutes  later  she  returned  and  Carlos 
had  again  disappeared.  This  time  she  made 
up  her  mind  that  the  Indian  boy  must  be 
sent  back  to  his  own  people,  since  they  could 
do  nothing  to  stop  his  disobedience.  But 
Olive  had  been  trying  to  teach  the  little 
fellow  to  read  and  write,  and  in  straighten 
ing  up  her  bed  Ruth  found  a  piece  of  torn 
yellow  paper.  On  it  Carlos  had  written  in 
quaint,  scrawling  letters:  "I  Go  Girl  Never 
Afrid.  Find  Not,  Come  Back  Not." 

Ruth  put  the  letter  away;  her  heart  once 
more  softened  toward  the  lad,  hoping  for  his 
sake  that  he  might  be  the  one  to  bring  Jack 
to  them. 

•  But  no  one  need  have  been  troubled  about 
Jack  on  this  wonderful  summer  morning. 
Quite  comfortably  she  awoke  in  her  nest  of 
branches  to  a  bewildering  chorus  of  song,  a 
little  stiff,  of  course;  hungry  and  thirsty. 
But  climbing  out  on  the  ground,  she  ran  for 
half  a  mik  until  the  soreness  was  out  of  her 
muscles  and  the  surging  blood  warmed  her 


CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD.  157 

heart  and  cheeks.  Jack  took  off  her  sweater, 
carrying  it  under  her  arm,  the  wind  blew 
back  her  hair,  which  had  the  colors  of  the 
sun  in  it,  her  lips  were  open  and  full  and  a 
deep  crimson.  If  ever  any  of  the  old-time 
pagan  goddesses  that  one  reads  of  in  mythol 
ogy  sheds  her  influence  over  the  modern  girl, 
Jack  had  drawn  some  of  her  spirit  from  Diana. 
She  looked  as  you  might  imagine  Diana  to 
have  looked  after  she  had  spent  the  night 
hunting  with  her  maidens  in  some  lonely 
forest — fresh,  brilliant  and  gay. 

When  Jack  stopped  to  rest  from  her  run 
she  saw,  near  the  rocky  gorges  and  in  many 
of  the  waste  places,  red  cacti  blooming 
against  the  gray  buttes,  like  splashes  of  flame. 
Gathering  a  little  she  stuck  it  in  her  belt, 
but  Jack  hoped  to  discover  a  cactus  plant 
of  a  different  kind.  Her  father  and  Jim  had 
taught  her  all  they  knew  of  the  plants  and 
flowers  that  grow  in  the  American  desert, 
for  they  wished  her  to  be  prepared  for  just 
such  an  emergency  as  had  now  befallen  her. 
At  first  Jack  kept  close  to  the  path  at  the 
/side  of  the  gorge,  retracing  the  steps  she  had 
wrongly  taken  the  night  before.  When  she 
came  beyond  the  thicket  through  which  the 
cougar  had  followed  her,  a  stretch  of  arid 


158        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

country  spread  away  to  her  right  on  this  side 
the  gorge.  Standing  in  the  desert  with 
nothing  about  it  but  sand  and  sage  brush, 
Jack  spied  the  cactus  she  sought.  It  rose 
like  a  tree,  with  thick,  bunchy  leaves  at  its 
base,  and  dozens  of  clusters  of  small  mustard- 
colored  flowers  on  separate  branches  stick 
ing  out  from  its  summit  like  the  ribs  of  an 
umbrella. 

The  American  aloe  has  been  the  salvation 
of  many  a  traveler  in  the  desert  country  of 
the  West.  Hurrying  to  it,  Jack  cut  away 
some  of  the  thick  leaves  and  then  settling 
herself  comfortably  in  the  sand  she  sucked 
the  sap  from  the  leaves  until  her  throat  was 
no  longer  parched  and  her  hunger  and  thirst 
were  both  appeased. 

She  was  resting,  trying  to  make  up  her 
mind  to  go  back  to  the  ravine,  where  Jim 
would  surely  find  her,  when  she  heard  a  well- 
known  whistle.  It  was  not  like  the  note  of 
a  bird,  and  yet  it  did  not  seem  to  come  from 
a  human  throat,  yet  Jack  recognized  it  at 
once.  It  was  the  odd  sound  Carlos  made 
when  calling  to  the  birds  in  the  woods  or 
fields.  The  call  had  traveled  a  great  dis 
tance  in  the  clear  morning  air. 

Jack  clapped  her  hands  loudly.      "I  am 


CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD.  159 

coming,  Carlos,  I  am  coming/'  she  cried; 
"wait  for  me."  Then  she  ran  back  toward 
the  edge  of  the  cliff.  She  would  have  liked 
to  cry  out  with  pleasure  when  she  first  saw 
Carlos,  but  instead  kept  quite  still. 

The  lad  had  made  himself  a  whistle  from 
a  stalk  of  wild  grass  that  grew  like  a  reed. 
He  was  wandering  along  searching  everywhere 
for  Jack,  yet  beguiling  his  way  with  wonder 
ful  woodland  noises  which  he  made  through 
his  whistle.  A  robin  sat  perched  on  his 
black  hair,  several  other  birds  fluttered  over 
his  head,  afraid  to  alight  and  yet  unwilling 
to  leave  him.  If  Jack  had  suggested  the 
huntress  Diana,  Carlos  looked  like  a  follower 
of  Pan.  Surely  in  mythological  days  just 
such  red-brown  boys  had  accompanied  the 
old  wood  god,  making  the  weird  and  eerie 
music  that  caused  a  smile  to  hover  ever  on 
his  wild  face. 

The  caravan  party,  except  Jim  and  the 
truants,  were  eating  luncheon  when  Jack  and 
Carlos  burst  in  upon  them.  Jack  flew  to 
Ruth,  flinging  her  arms  about  her  and  giving 
her  a  breathless  hug.  "It  was  all  my  fault, 
as  usual,"  she  explained,  "but  there  is  noth 
ing  the  matter  with  me  except  a  bruise  on 
my  forehead  and  an  empty  feeling  in  another 


160        RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

place."  Jack  stopped,  suddenly  discovering 
the  presence  of  the  stranger,  Ralph  Merrit. 

Hugging  Jack  with  one  arm,  Ruth  respect 
fully  shook  hands  with  Carlos  with  the  other. 
The  small  lad  tried  not  to  show  emotion,  but 
a  light  of  triumph  shone  in  his  eyes.  He 
and  not  the  "Big  White  Chief"  had  found 
"The  Girl  Who  Was  Never  Afraid."  Now 
surely  he  would  be  forgiven  the  sin  of  his 
failure  to  keep  faith. 

Worn  and  haggard,  Jim  returned  a  few 
hours  later  to  find  his  fellow-travelers  en 
gaged  in  cheerful  conversation  and  seemingly 
forgetful  of  the  strain. 

"I  hope  nothing  will  happen  to  me  again 
while  we  are  on  this  trip,"  Jack  remarked 
carelessly.  "I  thought  last  night  in  the 
storm  that  the  gypsy  who  came  to  our  ranch 
had  surely  put  her  curse  on  me.  You  know 
she  announced  that  something  would  happen 
to  me  that  would  force  me  to  depend  on  other 
people,  and  as  I  had  to  depend  on  Carlos  to 
show  me  the  way  home  to  the  caravan,  per 
haps  the  spell  is  past." 

1  Olive,  sitting  next  Jack,  gave  a  shudder. 
She  had  never  confessed  how  much  she  had 
thought  of  the  woman's  evil  words  to  her, 
but  Frieda,  who  was  playing  with  the  stones 


CARLOS  MAKES  GOOD.  161 

Jack  had  brought  back  from  the  gold  mine, 
made  a  quick  turn  in  the  conversation. 

"Jean,"  she  announced  indignantly,  "you 
told  me  you'd  give  me  the  gold  Jim  and 
Jack  brought  from  the  mine  with  them,  and 
now  they  haven't  brought  any,  because  Ralph 
Merrit  says  these  rocks  are  no  better  than 
other  pebbles.  I  really  did  think  they  might 
find  some  gold,  though  I  said  I  knew  they 
wouldn't/'  she  ended  mournfully. 

Jean  laughed.  "Same  here,  baby.  I  con 
fess  I  thought  maybe  they  would  come  home 
with  a  grand  discovery  and  we  would  all  be 
as  rich  as  cream  forever  afterwards.  Did 
you  have  any  such  idea  in  your  head,  Jack?" 

Jack  blushed.  "Not  really,"  she  conceded; 
"but  of  course  as  soon  as  one  hears  anything 
about  a  gold  mine,  one  goes  quite  crazy. 
Remember  how  we  used  to  plan,  when  we 
were  little  girls,  to  run  away  and  find  the 
'Pot  of  Gold  at  the  End  of  the  Rainbow' 
as  soon  as  we  grew  up?" 

Jean  and  Frieda  nodded,  but  the  entire 
party  was  soon  busy  with  their  plans  for 
resuming  their  trip  in  the  early  morning. 
Jim  asked  Ralph  Merrit  to  go  along  to  the 
Yellowstone  Park  with  them.  The  young 
man  had  been  through  the  western  reserve 

11 


162        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

once  before,  and  since  his  experience  with 
Jack,  Jim  thought  it  might  be  just  as  well 
to  have  another  man  to  divide  responsibilities 
for  the  remainder  of  the  trip. 

By  nine  o' clock  the  next  day  the  caravan- 
ers  had  moved  away  from  the  quiet  oasis 
in  the  desert,  their  tent  had  been  folded  up 
and  the  horses  reluctantly  driven  from  the 
fresh  grass.  The  little  place  had  become  but 
a  memory  to  its  dwellers  by  the  wayside. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ENTERING  WONDERLAND 

THE  Forest  of  Arcady,  Jim,"  Jean 
called  gayly  from  her  seat  on  the 
back  of  her  pony.  She  and  Olive, 
with  Ralph  Merrit  walking  beside  them,  had 
just  climbed  a  steep  road  that  led  across  the 
Continental  Divide  into  the  great  park  of 
the  Yellowstone,  called  Yellowstone  by  the 
Indians  many  years  ago,  because  its  river 
ran  like  melted  gold  between  massive  stone 
walls,  shading  from  palest  lemon  to  a  deep 
orange  glow. 

Behind  its  outriders  the  ranch  girls'  car 
avan  moved  slowly  upward.  They  had  been 
passing  through  tall  pine  forests  that  shut 
them  in  to  a  cathedral  gloom,  but  beyond 
and  farther  down  the  hill  Jean  had  just 
caught  sight  of  a  grove  of  quaking  aspen 
trees  with  the  sky  above  them  shining  as 
bright  as  sunny  Italy.  The  grove  looked 
like  a  great  umbrella  shop  with  its  parasols 
open  on  parade,  for  the  trees  had  circular 

(163) 


164        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

green  tops  growing  high  above  the  ground, 
and  their  straight,  slender  trunks  were  like 
white  umbrella  handles. 

Jim  cracked  his  whip  in  answer  to  Jean's 
speech  and  Jack  waved  her  hat  from  the 
place  next  him;  just  behind  them  Ruth 
clutched  at  Frieda  and  Carlos  to  keep  them 
from  falling  into  the  road  in  their  efforts  to 
see  everything  at  once.  Away  to  the  right 
they  could  catch  a  faint  glimpse  of  one  of 
the  long  arms  of  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  they 
meant  to  reach  a  hotel  on  its  northern  banks 
by  twilight. 

For  the  past  ten  days  the  caravan  party 
had  been  moving  almost  steadily  onward. 
Twice  only  had  they  stopped  at  small  towns 
for  mail,  to  buy  fresh  provisions  and  to  get 
rid  of  some  of  the  stains  of  travel.  However, 
the  entire  party  looked  like  a  troupe  of  Span 
ish  gypsies,  some  of  them  fair-haired  and 
blue-eyed  as  the  old  Castilians,  others  dark 
as  the  Moors,  but  all  with  their  complexions 
tanned  to  varying  shades  of  brown  from  their 
weeks  in  the  open  air. 

" Nature's  Wonderland!"  Jack  spouted  rap 
turously  in  the  language  of  a  guidebook. 
"  Really,  Ruth,  the  Park  is  even  more  beauti 
ful  than  we  dreamed,  isn't  it?" 


ENTERING  WONDERLAND.  165 

But  Jack  ceased  talking  abruptly  and  Jim 
reined  in  his  horses  on  a  stretch  of  level  road, 
while  Olive  and  Jean  slid  gently  down  from 
their  ponies7  backs.  The  noise  of  their  ap 
proach  had  frightened  a  band  of  almost  a 
hundred  antelopes,  who  were  browsing  in  a 
near-by  forest,  and  now  they  started  off  in 
a  long,  galloping  run  single  file  through  the 
trees  to  a  fertile  green  valley  below. 

When  the  deer  were  out  of  sight,  Frieda 
flung  a  dimpled  brown  arm  about  Jim's  neck. 
She  wore  a  yellow  straw  bonnet  with  a  blue 
ribbon  on  it,  tied  under  her  chin.  Ruth  had 
purchased  the  bonnet  in  one  of  the  towns 
where  they  spent  the  night,  for  each  member 
of  the  expedition  was  weary  of  crawling  down 
from  the  wagon  to  pick  up  Frieda's  lost  hat. 
"Do  let's  rest  here  a  few  minutes,  Jim," 
Frieda  urged.  "  The  horses  have  stopped,  any 
how,  and  my  legs  are  so  tired  dangling  from 
the  seat." 

Ruth  had  let  go  her  hold  on  the  children 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  without  waiting  for 
Jim's  consent,  by  some  sort  of  silent  signal 
they  both  slipped  over  the  wagon  wheels  ana 
danced  away.  For  hours  they  had  been 
passing  by  every  variety  of  beautiful  wild 
flower,  but  this  minute  Frieda  and  Carlos 


166        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

discovered  an  isolated  hill  crowned  with 
jagged  rocks  and  covered  with  bitter-root, 
whose  delicate  blossoms  made  the  ground 
look  like  a  carpet  studded  with  small  pink 
stars,  leading  to  a  giant's  castle  in  the  air. 

It  was  not  yet  time  for  luncheon,  but  the 
caravaners  were  always  hungry,  and  Ruth, 
Jean  and  Olive  dragged  a  basket  of  sand 
wiches  out  of  the  wagon,  while  Jim  Colter 
and  Ralph  Merrit  led  the  horses  away  to 
search  for  water. 

"Better  look  after  the  children,  Jack," 
Ruth  suggested  carelessly. 

Jack  moved  slowly  toward  the  pink  hill. 
She  could  see  that  Carlos  had  run  lightly 
up  it  and  was  now  crowing  proudly  from  the 
peak  of  one  of  the  highest  rocks,  while  poor 
Frieda  was  crawling  laboriously  after  him, 
fired  with  ambition  and  envy.  Jack  stopped 
a  minute  to  laugh.  Her  small  sister  was  so 
round  and  chubby,  that  even  though  she 
clung  to  the  shrubs  as  she  struggled  upward, 
every  now  and  then  she  would  slip  back 
almost  as  far  as  she  had  gone  on. 

"Don't  try  to  go  any  farther,  Frieda; 
come  back  to  me/'  Jack  cried  warningly. 
But  Carlos  had  leaped  to  another  higher  crag 
and  was  beckoning  his  companion  to  follow 


ENTERING  WONDERLAND.  167 

him,  so  Frieda  either  didn't  hear  or  wouldn't 
heed  her  elder  sister;  neither  did  she  look 
upward  toward  the  goal  "to  which  she  would 
ascend."  Carlos  vanished  around  another 
rock  and  was  out  of  sight;  he  did  not  think 
to  mention  that  there  was  a  flat  platform 
back  of  the  first  big  rock  and  that  it  was 
already  occupied.  Suddenly  from  her  posi 
tion  near  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  Jack  saw 
an  old  goat  thrust  his  head  out  over  this 
rock  and  survey  Frieda,  with  the  long  gray 
beard  and  the  glittering  eye  of  "The  Ancient 
Mariner."  He  was  evidently  an  old  time 
resident  of  the  Park  and  had  no  intention  of 
sharing  his  retreat  with  an  outside  intruder. 

"Frieda!"  Jack  halloed,  now  frightened 
and  running  up  the  hill  as  fast  as  she  could, 
but  she  could  hardly  hope  to  come  to  the 
rescue  in  time. 

Blue-eyed  Frieda  had  crawled  up  the  side 
of  the  crag  toward  the  spot  where  the  goat 
awaited  her.  Instead  of  a  shout  of  triumph 
she  gave  a  horrified  gasp  of  terror,  never  hav 
ing  intended  to  invade  the  castle  of  the 
particular  ogre  she  now  beheld. 

At  this  moment  a  tourist,  who  had  been 
wandering  idly  around  surveying  the  scen 
ery,  saw  the  little  girl  and  the  goat.  He 


168        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

laughed  and  moved  quickly  in  their  direction. 
Jack  was  also  doing  her  level  best  to  arrive 
before  the  tragedy,  but  the  old  goat  preferred 
not  to  wait.  He  took  a  few  steps  forward, 
hunching  his  shoulders  and  sidling  along,  then 
with  a  snort  of  dignified  rage  and  a  shove  of 
his  shaggy  gray  head,  he  struck  poor  Frieda 
in  the  middle  of  her  small  person  and  sent 
her  over  the  side  of  the  rock  down  the  hill, 
where  she  landed  in  a  bed  of  the  coveted 
bitter-root  blossoms. 

"If  you  won't  cry,  little  girl,  I'll  give  you 
something  I  have  in  my  pocket/'  a  strange 
gentleman  said  hurriedly,  just  as  Frieda 
opened  her  mouth  to  bewail  her  misfortune. 
Not  only  was  she  injured  in  her  feelings;  she 
was  hurt  in  other  places  as  well,  and  her  new 
bonnet  hopelessly  smashed  in  on  one  side. 
Too  surprised  to  do  anything  but  choke  for 
a  few  seconds,  Frieda  let  her  preserver  set 
her  up  on  the  ground  and  brush  off  some  of 
the  sand  and  twigs.  He  seemed  a  middle- 
aged  man,  quite  as  old  as  Jim,  with  iron-gray 
hair  and  dark  eyes,  and  such  a  funny  expres 
sion  through  his  glasses,  it  was  hard  to  tell 
whether  he  was  smiling  or  sympathetic. 

Jack  now  appeared  and  saw  that  her  small 
sister  was  not  seriously  hurt.  Just  as  she 


ENTERING  WONDERLAND.  169 

started  to  thank  her  rescuer  a  vision  of 
what  they  had  just  seen  flashed  between 
them.  Swiftly  Jack's  gray  eyes  darkened, 
her  lips  curved  and  she  burst  into  a  peal  of 
gay  laughter,  which  the  stranger  echoed 
until  he  had  to  take  out  his  handkerchief  to 
wipe  his  eyeglasses. 

Frieda  gazed  at  them  both  indignantly, 
then  the  tears  which  had  been  nobly  held 
back  rushed  down  her  pink  cheeks  like  the 
streams  from  a  spouting  geyser. 

"Oh,  dear  me,  now  you  are  crying  and  I 
told  you  I  would  give  you  something  if  you 
wouldn't!"  the  tourist  remarked  hastily. 
Down  in  his  pocket  went  his  hand,  and  be 
fore  Frieda's  and  Jack's  amazed  eyes  were 
displayed  a  handful  of  bright  jewels,  topaz 
and  jasper,  agate  and  garnets. 

Jack  shook  her  head  decisively.  "No, 
thank  you,"  she  said.  "You  are  very  kind, 
but  they  are  much  too  valuable  for  Frieda 
to  accept.  We  must  say  good-by;  our 
friends  are  signaling  us." 

Mr.  Peter  Drummond  laughed  good-humor- 
edly.  "  Please  let  her  have  one — they  are 
not  of  value,"  he  begged.  "I  just  have  a 
fancy  for  pretty  stones,  like  a  small  boy,  and 
these  have  all  been  found  in  the  state  of 


170        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Wyoming."  Frieda's  small  hand  closed  sud 
denly  over  a  shining  bit  of  yellow  jasper. 
Jack  blushed,  but  there  was  no  time  for 
argument.  Carlos  had  already  sped  down  the 
hill  and  Jim  was  shouting  to  them.  From 
the  top  of  their  caravan,  as  it  took  up  its 
forward  march,  Jack  and  Frieda  beheld  the 
distinguished  stranger  still  watching  them,  and 
waved  their  handkerchiefs  to  him  in  farewell. 

Just  before  sunset  the  caravaners  arrived 
in  front  of  the  hotel  where  th#y  intended  to 
spend  the  night.  Yellowstone  Lake  lay  a 
wonderful  sheet  of  clear  water  at  one  side 
of  them,  but  the  travelers  were  weary  of 
scenery  and  far  more  interested  in  the  guests 
who  crowded  the  hotel  verandah.  The  wo 
men  wore  pretty  afternoon  toilets  and  the 
men  white  flannels,  as  though  they  were 
visitors  at  fashionable  Newport  homes  in 
stead  of  travelers  in  the  heart  of  a  wilderness. 

" Great  heavens,  Ruth!"  Jean  murmured, 
as  they  dismounted  and  stood  close  together 
in  a  frightened  group,  "my  legs  feel  as  though 
they  were  going  to  give  way  under  me  and 
I  am  as  bedraggled  as  any  beggar  maid. 
However  are  we  going  to  have  the  courage 
to  march  across  that  wretched  porch  with  all 
those  people  staring  at  us?" 


ENTERING  WONDERLAND.  171 

"I  don't  know  myself,  Jean.  I  had  no  idea 
we  would  find  so  many  visitors  here/'  Ruth 
replied,  vainly  trying  to  straighten  her  travel* 
ing  hat,  which  was  considerably  the  worse 
for  wear.  Indeed  the  caravan  party  did  look 
almost  as  disreputable  as  they  felt  in  their 
dusty,  travel-worn  clothes,  now  brought  into 
sudden  contrast  with  well-dressed  people* 

Jack  lifted  her  chin  in  her  usual  haughty 
fashion,  assuming  a  courage  she  did  not  feel. 
"Oh,  well,  we  can't  stand  here  in  the  road 
all  evening,"  she  argued.  "Jim  and  Mr. 
Merrit  must  see  that  the  horses  and  wagon 
are  put  up  somewhere,  so  come  on,  Olive, 
let's  lead  the  way.  At  least  we  can  be  grate 
ful  that  we  don't  know  anyone  here  and  no 
one  knows  us." 

Elderly  ladies  raised  their  lorgnettes  to 
stare  at  the  newcomers  and  some  young 
people  whispered  together. 

"There  they  come,  mother,"  a  young  girl 
cried  excitedly.  "I  told  you  we  would  get 
here  before  they  did!" 

Jack  and  Olive  had  just  mounted  the  ver 
andah  steps  with  Carlos,  and  Ruth  and  Jean, 
each  holding  Frieda's  hand,  were  following 
close  behind,  when  there  was  a  soft  rustle 
of  silk  across  the  piazza  and  Mrs.  Harmon 


172        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  her  son  Donald,  whom  the  caravan  party 
had  left  safe  at  Rainbow  Lodge,  stood  be 
fore  them.  A  minute  later  a  servant  wheeled 
Elizabeth  over  in  a  big  chair. 

"We  just  couldn't  bear  not  to  see  the 
Yellowstone  Park  too,"  Elizabeth  explained 
fervently.  "Don  and  I  talked  of  nothing 
else  after  you  went  away  in  your  wonderful 
caravan,  and  at  last  father  said  mother  could 
bring  us  here.  It  took  us  only  a  day  to  make 
the  trip  that  has  taken  you  more  than  two 
weeks.  Aren't  you  glad  to  see  us?" 

Jack  kissed  Elizabeth  hurriedly,  while  the 
rest  of  the  party  shook  hands  with  Mrs. 
Harmon  and  Donald.  The  girls  were  too 
dazed  wdth  surprise  and  fatigue  to  know 
whether  they  were  glad  or  sorry  to  see  the 
acquaintances  to  whom  they  had  rented  their 
beloved  home.  Ruth  thought  Mrs.  Harmon's 
manner  a  little  constrained  when  she  spoke 
to  them. 

"We  don't  want  to  haunt  you,  Miss  Drew," 
she  apologized,  "but  we  were  so  close  to  this 
marvelous  park  it  seemed  a  pity  for  us  to 
miss  it,  and  Don  and  Elizabeth  are  so  in 
love  with  your  ranch  girls  they  believe  they 
will  enjoy  it  twice  as  much  with  you  here. 
We  came  on  after  Beth  had  a  letter  from  Miss 


ENTERING  WONDERLAND.  173 

Ralston  telling  her  about  the  time  you  ex 
pected  to  arrive." 

There  was  one  member  of  the  caravan 
party  who  had  no  hesitation  in  expressing 
his  views  of  the  unexpected  appearance  of 
the  three  members  of  the  Harmon  family. 
Jim  was  frankly  displeased.  "It  wasn't 
enough  to  rent  them  our  Lodge  for  the  sum 
mer  and  have  them  drive  me  plumb  crazy 
with  questions  before  I  got  away/'  he  com 
plained  to  Ruth  as  soon  as  she  broke  the 
news  to  him,  "but  now  we  have  got  to  tote 
'em  over  the  wiiole  of  the  Yellowstone.  I 
guess  they  must  think  I'm  the  original  Cooks' 
Tour  man/'  he  growled,  forgetting  his  newly 
acquired  English  in  his  bad  temper. 

But  Ruth  laughed  sympathetically. 
"Never  mind,  Mr.  Jim,"  she  returned.  "I 
am  sorry  myself  that  we  can't  have  our  trip 
to  ourselves,  but  I  hope  pleasure  will  some 
how  come  out  of  the  presence  of  the  Har 
mons  here." 

So  far  as  Ruth  or  any  member  of  the 
Rainbow  Ranch  family  could  see  for  many 
months  to  come  not  good,  but  great  evil 
grew  out  of  the  entrance  of  these  new  ac 
quaintances  into  their  lives. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MR.    DRUMMOND    AND    RALPH    CHANGE    PLACES 

THE  ranch  girls,  Jim  and  Ralph  Mer- 
rit  were  at  supper  later  that  even 
ing  when  some  one  walked  down 
the  length  of  the  long  dining  room,  glancing 
for  an  instant  toward  their  table  as  he  passed 
by. 

Frieda  nearly  choked  over  her  soup. 
"Look,  Jack,  there's  the  man  who  gave  me 
the  pretty  yellow  stone  this  afternoon!'7  she 
exclaimed  in  a  loud  whisper. 

Jack  look  up  quickly  and  blushed.  Then 
to  hide  her  confusion,  she  smiled  and  bowed 
in  an  unexpectedly  friendly  fashion,  surpris 
ing  the  others,  as  she  was  usually  shy  with 
strangers.  Mr.  Drummond  returned  her 
greeting  cordially,  smiling  at  Frieda;  and 
straightway  the  social  position  of  the  caravan- 
ers  reached  the  high-water  mark.  He  was 
said  to  be  a  wealthy  bachelor  from  New 
York,  but  as  no  one  actually  knew  anything 
about  him  and  he  had  refused  to  associate 

(174) 


CHANGING  PLACES.  17* 

with  the  other  guests,  his  reserve  caused  him 
to  be  regarded  as  a  very  important  person. 

After  dinner,  as  the  girls  went  out  on  the 
verandah,  they  looked  as  though  they  had 
dressed  to  illustrate  the  name  of  the  Rain 
bow  Ranch.  Weary  of  their  traveling  cos 
tumes  they  had  put  on  their  best  summer 
muslins.  Jack  wore  a  violet  organdie,  Jean 
a  red  one,  Olive  was  in  pale  yellow  and 
Frieda  in  blue.  Ruth  never  dressed  in  any 
thing  except  white  in  the  evenings.  Jim 
went  off  to  inquire  for  his  mail,  asking  Ruth 
to  wait  for  him.  He  was  beginning  to  feel 
anxious  to  hear  how  things  were  going  on 
at  the  ranch  in  his  absence. 

Peter  Drummond  stood  a  short  distance 
off  watching  the  little  group.  In  coming  west, 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  people  he  ran  across  in  the 
course  of  his  travels.  He  saw  too  much  of 
society  in  New  York.  Wealthy,  of  an  old 
Knickerbocker  family,  with  a  home  on  the 
south  side  of  Washington  Square,  life  had 
given  him  everything  he  desired  until  three 
short  months  before.  Then,  when  he  was 
forty  years  old,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  had  fallen  in  love,  and  the  woman  he  cared 
for  refused  to  marry  him  for  what  seemed  to 


176          RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Peter  a  perfectly  absurd  reason.  Therefore 
Mr.  Drummond  had  determined  forever  to 
forswear  the  company  of  women.  He  was 
wondering  if  girls  need  be  included  in  his 
decision,  when  Frieda  solved  the  problem  for 
him.  Slipping  away  from  the  others  she 
crossed  the  piazza.  Peter  suddenly  discov 
ered  a  pair  of  serious  blue  eyes  gazing  straight 
into  his. 

"If  you  want  that  stone  back  that  you 
gave  me  this  afternoon  you  may  have  it," 
she  said.  "You  see  I  did  cry  a  little  bit  when 
I  fell,  so  perhaps  it  isn't  exactly  fair  of  me  to 
keep  it." 

Mr.  Drummond's  face  was  quite  as  serious 
as  Frieda's. 

"I  should  hardly  like  to  be  called  an  'Injun 
giver',  would  you?"  he  asked.  "I  don't 
know  how  girls  feel  about  it,  but  when  I 
was  a  boy  if  another  fellow  tried  to  get  back 
a  thing  he  had  given  away  he  was  thought 
to  be  a  pretty  poor  kind  of  person." 

"  Girls  feel  the  same  way,"  Frieda  felt  com 
pelled  to  answer  honestly. 

"Then,  for  my  sake,  won't  you  please  keep 
it? — and  shaking  hands  makes  it  a  bargain," 
Peter  returned,  extending  his  hand  to  clasp 
Frieda's.  With  her  fingers  still  in  his,  he 


CHANGING  PLACES.  177 

joined  Ruth  and  the  other  girls,  who  had 
been  trying  not  to  laugh  at  the  little  scene. 

Few  eastern  people,  who  have  had  no  ex 
perience  of  life  in  the  West,  realize  how  much 
more  unconventional  and  informal  it  is. 
Strangers  meeting  on  a  train  talk  as  freely 
during  the  journey  as  though  they  had  been 
formally  introduced;  friendliness  is  in  the 
very  atmosphere. 

So,  though  Mr.  Drummond  was  surprised 
at  his  own  behavior,  the  ranch  girls  accepted 
his  approach  quite  simply.  First,  he  inquired 
of  Ruth  if  Freida  had  really  been  hurt  in 
her  accident  of  the  afternoon;  ten  minutes 
later  he  knew  the  names  of  the  five  girls, 
something  of  their  history,  had  heard  of  Jim 
Colter  and  Ralph  Merrit,  and  had  given  a 
brief  account  of  himself  in  exchange,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  three  months  was  actually 
enjoying  himself. 

The  moon  was  just  rising  behind  the  dark 
circle  of  evergreen  forests  that  bordered  the 
Yellowstone  Lake  on  three  sides.  Going  out 
on  the  lawn,  Olive  was  first  to  discover  a 
dark  figure  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
strolling  quietly  up  and  down.  Perhaps  be 
cause  in  the  early  days,  when  first  brought 
home  to  Rainbow  Ranch,  she  too  had  some- 

12 


178        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

times  felt  like  an  alien,  now  she  was  the 
only  one  of  the  caravaners  to  guess  why 
Ralph  had  gone  away  from  them  wishing  to 
be  alone. 

Ralph  Merrit  was  having  a  fight  with 
himself.  In  the  past  ten  days,  as  a  guest  of 
the  caravan  party,  he  had  learned  to  care 
for  them  very  deeply.  If  he  preferred  one 
of  the  girls  to  the  others  he  had  not  said  so 
nor  showed  it  in  any  way.  During  the  trip 
he  felt  he  had  been  able  to  make  himself 
useful,  but  since  their  arrival  at  the  hotel 
Ralph  had  felt  shy  and  ill  at  ease.  Jack 
had  told  him  they  were  poor,  and  in  the  gay 
camaraderie  of  the  open  air  he  had  thought 
little  of  wealth  or  poverty;  now  he  was  acutely 
conscious  of  his  own  lack  of  money.  With 
hardly  a  dollar  in  his  pocket  and  only  a 
change  of  clothes  in  his  knapsack,  he  could 
not  remain  one  of  the  travelers  through  the 
Yellowstone  Park.  It  was  hard  to  say  fare 
well  to  his  friends  and  to  start  out  again  to 
look  for  work,  but  harder  to  remain  and  not 
do  his  share  in  the  entertainment.  The 
ranch  girls  evidently  had  richer  friends  than 
he  dreamed,  the  Harmons  were  evidently 
wealthy  people,  and  Ralph  had  been  told 
this  Mr.  Drummond  was  a  millionaire. 


CHANGING  PLACES.  179 

"What's  the  matter,  Ralph?"  Jack's 
friendly  voice  asked.  Olive  had  drawn  her 
and  Jean  over  in  Ralph's  direction,  while 
Mr.  Drummond,  Ruth  and  Frieda  walked 
slowly  on. 

"We  have  been  wondering  what  had  be 
come  of  you  ever  since  dinner?"  Jean  added. 

Ralph  cleared  his  throat  a  bit  huskily. 

"I've  got  a  bad  case  of  blues,"  he  said, 
"but  I  am  glad  you  found  me  out.  I  have 
got  to  be  off  from  here  early  in  the  morning, 
and  perhaps  it  is  better  to  explain  to  you  to 
night." 

Jean  pouted,  Jack  gave  a  surprised  ex 
clamation,  Olive  believed  she  understood. 

"But  I  thought  you  told  Jim  you  would 
make  the  trip  with  us,  Ralph/'  Jack  argued. 
* '  Has  anything  disagreeable  happened?  Surely 
no  one  of  us  has  hurt  your  feelings." 

Ralph  shook  his  head  emphatically.  "No 
people  have  ever  been  so  good  to  me  in  my 
life,"  he  answered.  "Look  here,  don't  you 
think  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  make  a  clean 
breast  of  things?  I  am  going  away  because 
I  haven't  any  money,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
be  a  snide  and  stay  on  here  as  your  guest. 
I  told  you  that  the  little  money  I  had  was 
stolen  from  me  by  the  two  miners  who  took 


180        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

me  out  to  'Miner's  Folly'  to  see  if  their 
claims  were  any  good.  It  wasn't  much,  be 
cause  I  came  west  to  earn  a  fortune,  not  to 
spend  one,  but  it  was  all  I  had.  Now  I 
have  to  clear  out  and  look  for  a  job.  I 
don't  think  we  are  'Ships  That  Pass  in  the 
Night',  I  believe  we  are  going  to  meet  again, 
some  day,"  Ralph  ended.  "And  if  ever  there 
is  anything  I  can  do  to  show  you  my  grati 
tude  and  appreciation " 

"Oh,  do  hush,  Ralph  Merrit!"  Jean  burst 
out  impetuously.  "I  don't  see  what  you 
have  got  to  thank  us  for.  But  if  you  really 
were  having  a  good  time  you  wouldn't  go  off 
and  leave  us." 

"That  isn't  fair,  Jean,"  Ralph  answered 
hotly.  Then  he  laughed  at  himself,  for  Jean's 
speeches  had  a  fashion  of  provoking  him, 
although  he  was  so  much  her  elder. 

"I  don't  believe  that,  Jean,"  Jack  inter 
rupted.  "But  I  don't  see  why  Ralph  can't 
finish  the  trip  with  us  and  then  go  after  his 
fortune." 

"I  am  so  sorry  nobody  understands," 
Ralph  said  slowly,  "but  I  must  be  off  just 
the  same.  I'll  see  you  again  in  the  morning, 
but  our  real  good-by  is  to-night." 

As  Olive  shook  hands    she    said    quietly: 


CHANGING  PLACES.  181 

"I  understand  why  you  are  going.  And  don't 
worry,  please,  because  I  feel  sure  I  can  make 
the  others  understand."  Jack's  good  night 
was  cordial,  but  Jean  refused  to  change  her 
opinion  of  Ralph's  desertion. 

Ruth  suggested  that  the  girls  go  back  to 
the  hotel  for  their  wraps,  as  the  evening  was 
growing  chilly.  As  Jean  and  Jack  disappeared 
on  their  way  to  their  rooms,  Mrs.  Harmon 
drew  Olive  and  Frieda  to  her  end  of  the 
porch,  Mr.  Drummond  had  said  good  night, 
Ralph  Merrit  had  again  vanished,  and  still 
Jim  had  not  returned.  Ruth  could  not  make 
up  her  mind  whether  to  be  angry  with  Jim 
for  being  so  long  in  keeping  his  appointment 
with  her,  or  to  feel  worried  for  fear  something 
had  happened  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XV 

ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION 

JEAN    stayed    upstairs,    but    when    Jack 
came  back  with  the  wraps  she  found 
Ruth  and  Jim  gone,  leaving  word  that 
she  and  Olive  were  to  put  Frieda  to  bed 
without  waiting  for  her,  as  she  might  come 
back  fairly  late. 

Over  in  a  quiet  corner  Jack  saw  Olive  and 
Frieda  still  with  the  Harmons.  [In  a  moment 
she  meant  to  join  them,  but  first  she  must 
conquer  a  queer  sensation  that  overmastered 
her.  Jack  bit  her  lips  and  her  eyes  clouded. 
Never  before  in  her  life  had  she  known  what 
it  was  to  be  overtaken  by  a  premonition; 
now  she  felt  almost  ill,  she  longed  to  escape 
and  never  set  eyes  on  the  Harmons  again. 
With  all  her  soul  she  longed  for  Rainbow 
Lodge  and  wished  they  had  not  rented  it  to 
strangers. 

But  Olive  had  seen  Jack,  and  Donald  was 
crossing  over  to  ask  her  to  join  them.  Jack 
closed  her  eyes,  opened  them,  shrugged  her 

(182) 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  183 

shoulders  and  determined  to  think  no  more 
foolishness  that  evening. 

When  she  reached  Elizabeth  Harmon's 
side,  the  girl  caught  her  hand  eagerly  and 
pressed  it  against  her  thin,  hot  cheek.  "I 
have  been  telling  mother  I  knew  none  of 
you  were  pleased  at  our  coming  to  the  Yellow 
stone  while  you  were  here,"  she  declared  pet 
tishly,  "and  I  suppose  /  will  be  in  the  way; 
but  please  won't  you  just  say  you  are  glad 
to  have  me?  I  don't  care  about  the  others." 

"Elizabeth,"  Mrs.  Harmon  remonstrated; 
but  Jack  leaned  over  and  gently  kissed  the 
spoiled  girl  who  had  taken  such  an  over 
whelming  fancy  to  her.  At  the  same  mo 
ment  a  wave  of  remorse  swept  over  her 
that  she  had  not  at  once  been  happy  at  her 
opportunity  to  add  something  to  Elizabeth's 
pleasure.  How  pitiful  it  was  that  the  young 
girl  so  longed  to  take  part  in  their  outdoor 
amusements,  when  she  was  able  to  walk  only 
a  few  yards  at  a  time.  Suddenly  a  feeling  of 
thankfulness  for  her  own  health  and  vigor 
rushed  over  Jack,  and  in  that  moment  she 
determined,  while  they  were  thrown  together, 
to  devote  herself  utterly  to  her  new  friend; 
for  Jacqueline  Ralston  possessed  many  of  the 
traits  of  character  of  a  brave  boy  or  man. 


184         RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Weakness  and  a  need  for  her  protection  made 
an  instant  appeal  to  her.  It  was  her  first 
instinct  in  caring  for  Olive  and  it  was  re 
sponsible  for  what  she  afterwards  did  for 
Elizabeth  Harmon. 

"I  am  truly  glad  you  are  here  with  us, 
Elizabeth/ '  Jack  could  now  reply  honestly. 
"But  haven7 1  you  enjoyed  your  two  weeks 
at  Rainbow  Lodge,  and  hasn't  it  done  you 
good?  I  felt  so  sure  you  would  soon  grow 
stronger  there,  perhaps  because  I  love  the 
ranch  so  dearly  myself,  and  have  been  so 
well  and  happy  there." 

Elizabeth  shrugged  her  delicate  shoulders 
until  her  loose  mass  of  red-gold  hair  almost 
covered  her  face.  "Oh,  yes,  I  like  the  ranch 
well  enough  and  I  suppose  I  am  better," 
she  returned.  "But  I  thought  father  came 
west  and  rented  your  house  so  I  might  be 
out  of  doors  all  the  time,  and  go  about  wher 
ever  I  wished,  and  now  I  am  hardly  allowed 
to  get  out  of  sight  of  the  Lodge.  As  soon  as 
you  went  away  such  a  queer  lot  of  people 
turned  up  at  your  ranch — a  gypsy  with  his 
wagon  and  family.  They  are  camping  some 
where  on  your  place,  because  they  are  always 
being  seen.  One  day  Don  and  I  saw  them 
near  the  stump  of  the  old  tree  where  you  and 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  185 

Olive  made  the  compact  of  friendship  with 


us." 


Jack  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  and  then 
changed  her  mind,  Olive  turned  from  talk 
ing  with  Donald  to  stare  in  amazement, 
when  from  the  depth  of  Mrs.  Harmon's  lap 
a  small  voice  said  sleepily,  "I  bet  you,  Jack, 
Elizabeth  is  talking  about  those  same  gypsies 
who  came  to  our  ranch  and  told  our  fortunes. 
I  thought  Jim  said  he  would  not  have  them 
on  our  place,"  Frieda  ended. 

Jack  blushed.  She  too  had  guessed  "  Gypsy 
Joe"  must  be  the  intruder,  and  intended  to 
report  the  matter  to  Jim,  but  she  did  not 
wish  any  discussion  of  the  subject  with  the 
Harmons. 

"Oh,  but  gypsies  aren't  the  only  queer 
people  who  have  come  to  the  ranch,"  Eliza 
beth  continued;  "there  are  other  rough  look 
ing  men  whom  father  spends  hours  and  hours 
with.  He " 

"Elizabeth,"  Mrs.  Harmon  interrupted 
sternly,  "how  many  times  have  I  asked  you 
not  to  talk  of  your  father's  affairs  with  strang 
ers?  He  would  be  extremely  angry  with  you 
for  telling  Miss  Ralston  this  nonsense." 

"It  isn't  nonsense,  it's  the  truth  and  you 
know  it,"  Elizabeth  answered.  "I  believe 


186         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

father  sent  us  away  from  Rainbow  Lodge  at 
this  time  because  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of  us. 
And  he  promised  me  he  would  not  attend  to 
any  business  while  we  were  on  the  ranch. 
Now  two  men  are  coming  on  from  the  East 
to  see  him,  and  he  is  as  worried  and  excited 
over  something  as  can  be  and  won't  tell  us 
what  it  is." 

Mrs.  Harmon  lifted  Frieda  from  her  lap. 
"Donald,  will  you  please  persuade  Elizabeth 
not  to  bore  Miss  Ralston  with  our  family 
history?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  shut  up,  Elizabeth.  Why  do  you  never 
do  as  mother  asks  you?"  Donald  muttered, 
and  Elizabeth  began  to  cry  like  a  spoiled 
baby. 

Jack,  Olive  and  Frieda  kept  their  eyes  on 
the  ground;  not  being  accustomed  to  family 
quarrels  they  felt  exceedingly  uncomfortable. 

"  Suppose  we  say  good  night,  Donald,  dear," 
Mrs.  Harmon  suggested.  "I  am  sure  Elizabeth 
must  be  tired.  Miss  Ralston,  I  believe  my 
husband  has  written  your  overseer  of  the 
presence  of  this  gypsy  on  your  ranch.  In 
regard  to  Mr.  Harmon's  present  worry  and 
excitement,  we  have  not  mentioned  it  to  Eliza 
beth,  as  we  try  to  keep  our  annoyances  from 
her;  but  her  father  has  recently  lost  a  good 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  187 

deal  of  money  in  Wall  Street,  so  he  is  naturally 
concerned." 

"I  am  sure  I  am  awfully  sorry,"  Jack  re 
plied,  not  knowing  exactly  what  she  should 
say.  But  five  minutes  later  she  and  Olive 
and  Frieda  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief — the  Har 
mon  family  had  finally  departed  to  their 
rooms  and  the  ranch  girls  were  free  to  go 
to  bed. 

Half  an  hour  later  Donald  Harmon  was 
still  in  his  mother's  room.  Elizabeth  was  fast 
asleep  in  the  room  adjoining. 

"Is  there  any  way  on  earth  to  make  Eliza 
beth  stop  talking  when  she  shouldn't,  Don?" 
Mrs.  Harmon  sighed.  "Poor  child,  she  is 
so  difficult !  I  was  wretchedly  uncomfortable, 
not  knowing  what  she  might  tell  to-night." 

Donald's  handsome  face  clouded.  "She 
don't  know  anything,  so  she  can't  tell  any 
thing/'  he  answered.  "I  almost  wish  she 
did;  then  the  responsibility  would  be  off  my 
conscience.  And  I  know  father  would  forgive 
Beth  anything." 

Mrs.  Harmon  changed  color.  "Well,  he 
wouldn't  forgive  you  or  me,  son,"  she  re 
plied.  "And,  after  all,  this  isn't  our  affair,  and 
we  must  not  interfere  with  your  father's 
plan." 


188        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Don  shook  his  head,  unconvinced  by  his 
mother's  argument.  "I  don't  know  whether 
you  are  right  or  wrong  in  this,  mother/'  he 
answered.  "It  seems  to  me  this  time  we 
ought  to  interfere.  By  keeping  silent  and  not 
letting  the  Ralstons  know  of  our  suspicion, 
we  are  behaving  pretty  dishonorably."  Don 
ald  lifted  his  shoulders  and  shook  them  as 
though  he  were  trying  to  shake  off  the  bur 
den  of  the  idea  that  oppressed  him.  "  Per 
haps  father's  great  find  will  come  to  nothing 
and  he  has  been  deceived  about  the  whole 
business,"  he  added  hopefully.  "For  my  part 
I  wish  things  would  turn  out  that  way.  I 
don't  like  to  be  mixed  up  in  this." 

Mrs.  Harmon  looked  worn  and  older. 
Before  no  one  but  her  son  did  she  drop  her 
society  mask  and  show  her  true  self.  "  Dear," 
she  protested,  "remember  you  and  I  can  bear 
being  poor,  but  think  how  dreadful  life  would 
be  for  Elizabeth  if  we  did  not  have  a  great 
deal  of  money  to  do  for  her." 

Don  sighed.  Always  he  had  been  expected 
to  sacrifice  everything  for  his  sister,  and  now 
he  was  to  be  asked  to  sacrifice  his  honor  as 
well.  But  he  wondered  why  his  mother 
should  talk  of  their  being  poor  because  his 
father  had  lost  a  portion  of  his  money  in 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  189 

Wall  Street.  His  mother  had  a  wealthy 
aunt  who  had  always  done  everything  for 
them,  and  he  and  his  sister  were  supposed 
to  be  her  only  heirs.  It  wasn't  very  probable 
that  Aunt  Agatha  would  lose  all  her  fortune 
or  go  back  on  them. 

Donald  bent  to  kiss  his  mother  good  night. 
"For  goodness'  sake,  let's  don't  worry  over 
this  scheme  of  father's  until  we  know  it  is 
going  to  amount  to  something,"  he  argued. 
"We  do  want  to  have  a  good  time  on  this 
trip — the  ranch  girls  are  simply  great!" 

While  all  this  was  transpiring,  Ruth  and 
Jim  Colter  were  rowing  along  the  northern 
border  of  Yellowstone  Lake  toward  a  small 
island  known  as  Pelican  Roost.  Earlier  in 
the  afternoon,  on  seeing  a  number  of  the 
pelicans  floating  like  a  fleet  of  boats  on  the 
face  of  the  water,  Ruth  had  idly  suggested 
that  she  would  like  to  see  them  at  night, 
as  they  must  look,  roosting  on  their  island, 
like  wicked  old  ghosts.  And  Jim  had  planned 
then  to  bring  Ruth  out  for  a  moonlight  row 
alone. 

When  he  returned  to  find  Ruth  waiting  on 
the  verandah  for  him,  he  had  made  no  ex 
planation  of  his  long  absence  and,  as  his  face 
was  unusually  serious,  Ruth  had  asked  no 


190        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

questions.  In  the  hour  of  his  absence  the 
face  of  the  world  had  changed  for  Jim  Colter! 
Before  going  to  the  hotel  clerk  for  the  letters 
that  had  been  sent  him  from  the  Rainbow 
Ranch,  Jim  had  made  up  his  mind  to  tell 
Ruth  he  loved  her  to-night,  and  to  try  to 
make  her  love  him  in  return.  The  weeks  of 
the  caravan  trip  had  ended  a  fight  with  him 
self.  Jim  had  finally  decided  that  a  man's 
past  need  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him 
than  an  old  garment  that  has  been  cast  aside 
forever.  He  would  tell  Ruth  he  cared  for  her 
and  they  would  begin  a  new  life  together. 
But  this  was  his  idea  before  reading  the  let 
ters  from  the  Rainbow  Ranch. 

Jim  now  rowed  on  in  complete  silence, 
while  Ruth  idly  wondered  when  he  was  going 
to  make  up  his  mind  to  talk  and  what  special 
thing  he  could  wish  to  tell  her  alone.  As 
Jim  always  took  a  long  time  to  put  his 
thoughts  into  words  she  felt  no  impatience. 

"I  had  a  letter  from  that  Harmon  man/' 
Jim  remarked  abruptly.  It  was  so  different 
a  speech  from  anything  she  expected  him  to 
say  that  Ruth  felt  irritated.  Wasn't  it 
rather  stupid  for  Jim  to  have  brought  her 
out  alone  on  the  lake  in  the  moonlight  to 
talk  of  the  Harmons,? 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  191 

"Did  you?"  she  returned  indifferently, 
slipping  her  white  fingers  in  the  water  to 
see  if  she  could  touch  one  of  the  yellow 
water  lilies  that  floated  near. 

Jim  heaved  a  sigh  so  deep  that  Ruth 
laughed.  "I  never  did  want  to  rent  our 
Lodge  to  the  fellow,"  he  protested  bitterly. 
"I  knew  nothing  but  trouble  could  come 
from  a  New  York  money  grabber." 

"Why,  Mr.  Jim,  you  are  unfair,"  Ruth 
declared.  "  You  know  you  were  as  anxious, 
after  the  first,  to  come  on  this  caravan  trip 
as  the  rest  of  us.  And  we  couldn't  have  come 
without  the  Harmon  money.  I  am  sorry  you 
haven't  enjoyed  it." 

"I  have  liked  it  better  than  anything  I 
ever  did  since  I  was  born,  Ruth  Drew,"  Jim 
replied  so  solemnly  that  Ruth  was  frightened 
into  silence.  "But  I  suppose  we  might  have 
managed  it  somehow  without  introducing  the 
plagued  Harmon  family  onto  our  ranch. 
What  do  you  think  this  Harmon  man  has 
written  me?" 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know — what?"  Ruth 
asked  a  little  irritably. 

"Oh,  nothing  but  a  cool  offer  to  buy  Rain 
bow  Ranch  off  our  hands  at  any  reasonable 
figure  we  choose  to  sell  it  for.  He  says  he 


192         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

has  gotten  so  interested  in  the  ranch,  and 
thinks  it  such  a  fine  place  for  his  daughter 
and  son,  that  he  would  be  willing  to  pay 
what  our  neighbors  might  think  a  fancy  sum 
for  the  place. " 

For  just  a  half  second  Ruth's  heart  stood 
still,  or  felt  as  though  it  had.  She  saw  Rain 
bow  Ranch,  which  had  been  saved  for  them 
once  by  Frieda's  discovery,  slipping  away 
again,  the  girls  scattered,  herself  back  in  the 
old  Vermont  village  away  from  this  wonder 
ful  western  life,  and  Jim  —  she  wondered 
what  would  become  of  Jim. 

Then  Ruth  came  to  her  senses.  "Well, 
Mr.  Jim,  I  don't  see  anything  so  dreadful 
in  Mr.  Harmon's  offer.  I  don't  wonder  he 
is  in  love  with  our  ranch,  but  we  don't  have 
to  sell  it  to  him  because  he  wants  it,  do  we? 
Jack  would  never  think  of  it." 

"It  isn't  all  just  what  Jack  wishes,  Miss 
Ruth,"  Jim  answered  sadly.  "It  is  because 
living  on  the  ranch  with  you  and  the  girls 
means  more  than  everything  else  in  the  world 
to  me,  that  it  kind  of  sinks  into  me  that  we 
oughtn't  to  turn  Mr.  Harmon's  offer  down 
without  thinking  and  talking  it  over.  The 
ranch  don't  pay  such  an  awful  lot  these  days — 
just  barely  enough  to  keep  things  going;  and 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  193 

maybe  the  girls  ought  to  have  advantages 
like  schools  and  traveling.  You  know  better 
than  I  do,  Ruth.  Won't  you  try  and  help 
me  think  this  thing  out  and  decide  what  is 
best  for  them?" 

For  a  moment  Ruth  was  silent,  knowing 
in  her  heart  why  Jim  took  Mr.  Harmon's 
offer  so  seriously.  All  his  own  hopes  and 
plans  depended  on  his  refusing  it.  If  he 
were  no  longer  the  overseer  of  the  Rainbow 
Ranch  he  would  have  nothing  to  offer  the 
woman  he  loved,  not  even  a  bare  support. 
The  money  he  had  saved  for  himself  in  the 
past  years  would  not  keep  them  six  months. 
Therefore,  since  Jim  Colter's  sense  of  honor 
was  stronger  than  any  selfish  desire,  he  feared 
that  his  own  wish  to  turn  down  Mr.  Har 
mon's  offer  without  wasting  a  moment's  con 
sideration  on  it  was  simply  because  it  would 
serve  his  own  purpose  and  not  because  it 
was  best  for  the  ranch  girls. 

"I  don't  believe  it  will  be  best  for  the  girla 
to  sell  the  ranch,  I  don't  honestly,"  Ruth 
replied.  And  then  under  her  breath,  "I 
promise  you  I  am  not  thinking  of  us." 

What  Ruth  meant  by  her  use  of  the  word 
"us"  Jim  did  not  know.  Of  course  she  too 
might  lose  her  occupation  if  the  girls  gave 

13 


194        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

up  the  ranch.  But  whatever  she  meant  the 
word  sounded  pretty  good  to  him. 

"Of  course  it  would  do  no  harm  to  talk 
over  the  proposition  from  Mr.  Harmon  with 
the  girls/1  Ruth  added  indifferently;  "but  I 
am  as  sure  as  I  ever  was  of  anything  in  the 
world  just  how  they  will  feel  about  it.  Don't 
let's  speak  of  it  now,  though,  Mr.  Jim.  Mr. 
Harmon  can't  expect  you  to  reply  to  his 
letter  at  once,  and  we  don't  want  any  business 
to  interfere  with  our  first  days  in  wonderland. 
Was  there  anything  else  in  Mr.  Harmon's 
letter  that  annoyed  you?" 

"Yes — no/'  Jim  answered  shortly.  "At 
least  Harmon  wrote  that  he  had  some  private 
business  with  the  fellow  who  came  junketing 
around  in  a  gypsy  cart  to  our  ranch  one  day, 
and  he  presumed  I  wouldn't  mind  the  man's 
staying  on  the  place.  Can't  imagine  what 
Harmon  can  want  of  a  tramp  .like  '  Gypsy 
Joe.'  He  never  would  have  written  me  about 
him,  I  suppose,  if  he  hadn't  known  the  boys 
at  the  ranch  would  tell  me  as  soon  as  one  of 
them  could  get  up  the  energy  to  write."  Jim 
again  relapsed  into  silence.  The  moon  went 
behind  a  cloud  and  the  island  was  hardly 
visible  ahead.  Ruth  decided  that  the  evening 
had  been  a  disappointing  one.  She  wondered 


ELIZABETH'S  STRANGE  CONFESSION.  195 

why  the  thought  of  this  half-gypsy,  half- 
gentleman  tramp  should  give  Jim  the  blues. 
She  had  relieved  his  mind  of  the  idea  that  it 
was  his  duty  for  the  girls'  sake  to  sell  them  out 
of  house  and  home. 

"  Let's  row  back  to  shore,  Mr.  Jim/'  Ruth 
said  coldly,  in  the  aloof  manner  she  still  knew 
how  to  use  when  things  did  not  please  her.  "I 
am  getting  tired  and  sleepy,  and  I  don't  want 
the  girls  to  worry  about  me." 

Jim  silently  turned  his  boat  to  shore.  After 
all,  perhaps  he  had  been  mistaken  in  the  idea 
that  a  man  can  rid  himself  of  his  past.  If 
Ruth  knew  why  this  fellow,  whom  she  heard 
spoken  of  as  "  Gypsy  Joe,"  could  send  the 
cold  shivers  up  and  down  h;s  spine,  would 
she  ever  use  the  tiny  word  "us"  in  the  tone 
that  she  had  spoken  it  a  while  before? 

When  Jim  and  Ruth  said  good  night, 
instead  of  feeling  a  closer  bond  of  affection, 
they  were  colder  in,  their  manner  toward  one 
another  than  they  had  been  since  the  hour 
the  caravan  first  rolled  away  from  the  Rain 
bow  Ranch  and  the  days  of  their  good  com 
radeship  began. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


UOLD  FAITHFUL" 


OMiss  Ralston,  will  you  ride  horse 
back  with  me  this  morning  instead 
of  going  over  in  the  coach  to  see 
the  geysers?"  An  unfamiliar  masculine  voice 
spoke  near  Jack.  She  had  stolen  out  of  doors 
early  to  catch  a  view  of  "The  Sleeping 
Giant,"  one  of  the  natural  curiosities  of 
Yellowstone  Lake,  the  perfect  outline  of  a 
human  face  turned  skyward  reflected  in  one 
of  the  pools  near  the  hotel.  Jack  started  and 
turned  to  discover  Mr.  Drummond. 

"I  brought  my  own  horses  to  the  Yellow 
stone  with  me,"  he  continued,  "and  I  am 
surfe  you  will  find  riding  more  agreeable  than 
being  bounced  around  in  a  rickety  coach. 
I  heard  your  chaperon  say  last  night  that  you 
intended  to  give  your  own  horses  and  caravan 
a  rest.  We  can  ride  near  enough  the  stage  for 
them  to  look  after  you." 

Jack's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure,  like  a 
child's.  "Oh,  please,  do  you  really  wish  me 

(196) 


"OLD  FAITHFUL."  197 

to  ride  with  you?"  she  asked,  only  half  con 
vinced.  "One  of  the  girls  I  met  at  the  hotel 
yesterday  told  me  you  had  the  most  wonder 
ful  horses.  But  how  did  you  ever  guess  how 
I  loved  to  ride?" 

Mr.  Drummond  laughed.  Jack's  accept 
ance  of  his  invitation  was  as  frank  as  a  boy's. 
She  made  no  pretense  of  caring  for  Mr. 
Drummond's  society  as  she  did  for  the  chance 
to  ride. 

"It  is  easy  enough  to  guess  you  can  ride  or 
do  anything  else  that  belongs  to  the  outdoors," 
he  returned  smiling.  "So  please  don't  forget 
to  ask  your  chaperon  right  away,  so  I  can 
give  my  man  the  order  for  our  horses." 

Jack  nodded  happily.  "Oh,  I  am  sure  it 
will  be  all  right,"  she  answered.  "I  hope  you 
won't  think  we  are  very  unconventional,  but 
you  see  we  have  always  lived  on  a  ranch,  and 
perhaps  we  don't  know  all  the  fine  social 
distinctions,  just  what's  right  and  what's 
wrong  for  a  girl  to  do."  She  laughed  cheer 
fully.  Nothing  in  the  wide  world  interested 
Jack  less  than  society,  and  never  could  she 
have  become  such  good  friends  with  Peter  if 
she  had  met  him  anywhere  else  than  here  in 
the  wilderness.  Jack  had  none  of  the  stirrings 
of  sentiment  in  her,  but  although  she  was  a 


198        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

young  girl  and  Mr.  Drummond  a  man  of  wide 
experience  she  had  a  genius  for  friendship, 
which  he  was  to  find  out  in  an  amazingly  short 
time. 

An  hour  later  a  dozen  or  more  people 
trooped  out  of  the  hotel  ready  for  the  day's 
amusement.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the 
Harmons  and  the  caravan  party  should  drive 
over  to  the  most  reliable  geyser  in  the  Yellow 
stone  Park,  "Old  Faithful/'  who  pours  forth 
his  steaming,  scalding  water  every  seventy 
minutes  as  regularly  as  clock  work.  For 
tunately  for  the  ranch  girls,  Ruth  had  seen 
that  each  one  of  them  owned  a  second  travel 
ing  costume,  for  the  outfits  in  which  they  left 
Rainbow  Ranch  were  too  dilapidated  to  put 
on  again.  Now  they  appeared  in  new  khaki 
costumes,  looking  as  fresh  and  businesslike 
as  the  day  they  first  set  out  on  their  journey. 
Only  Jack  wore  a  corduroy  riding  habit. 

Olive  and  Jack  gazed  with  open  admiration 
at  Mrs.  Harmon,  never  having  seen  a  woman 
so  beautifully  gowned  before.  Somehow  in 
her  soft,  hunter's  green  broadcloth  and  close- 
fitting  hat  she  did  suggest  Olive  —  Jack 
thought,  perhaps  because  she  wore  Olive's 
favorite  shade  of  green. 

Ralph  Merrit  had  waited  to  say  a  final 


"OLD  FAITHFUL."  199 

good-by  to  the  caravan  party  just  before  the 
stage  rolled  away.  He  had  walked  over 
with  Jack  to  where  Mr.  Drummond  and  his 
groom  waited  with  the  horses;  then  he  came 
back,  kissed  Frieda  and  shook  hands  with 
Olive,  Ruth  and  Jim.  Jean  was  looking 
everywhere  but  in  his  direction. 

She  held  a  small  book  in  her  hand,  and  Ruth, 
looked  at  it  curiously.  Jean  was  fond  of 
reading,  but  she  would  hardly  select  the  day 
they  were  to  visit  the  most  famous  geyser  in 
the  world  to  pursue  her  literary  tastes. 
Sticking  forth  from  the  pages,  quite  by  acci 
dent  Ruth  saw  a  spray  of  pale  blue  forget-me- 
nots;  they  grew  everywhere  about  the  park. 

"  You'll  be  sure  to  come  to  Rainbow  Lodge 
to  see  us  some  day,  won't  you?"  Ruth  urged 
cordially.  Jim  gave  Ralph's  hand  another 
shake.  "  We'll  count  on  you,"  he  urged. 
"You  know  I  told  you  I  never  liked  a  fellow 
half  so  well  in  so  short  a  time." 

"Won't  you  say  good-by,  Jean,  and  take 
back  what  you  said  last  night?"  Ralph  asked, 
half  serious  and  half  smiling. 

Jean  thrust  out  a  book.  "I  suppose  I 
must,"  she  answered,  "as  I  hate  to  be  cross 
with  people  when  they  are  so  far  away  there 
is  no  chance  to  quarrel.  I  have  put  a  spray 


200         RANCH   GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

of  forget-me-nots  in  this  book,  so  you  won't 
forget  us,"  she  ended  prettily. 

Just  before  the  coach  moved  off  Jack, 
mounted  on  a  thoroughbred  horse,  rode  up  to 
show  herself  to  her  friends  with  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  following  behind  her. 

In  the  best  seat  in  the  stage,  with  sofa 
cushions  piled  about  her,  sat  Elizabeth  Har 
mon.  As  she  saw  Jack  an  ill-humored 
expression  crossed  her  face.  "I  thought  we 
were  going  to  have  the  drive  together.  You 
promised  only  last  night  that  you  would  try 
to  make  me  have  a  good  time,  and  now  first 
thing  next  morning  you  are  going  off  and 
leaving  me/7  she  exclaimed. 

Jack  turned  crimson.  She  had  meant  to 
be  good  to  Elizabeth,  but  it  had  never  oc 
curred  to  her  to  give  up  her  horseback  ride 
on  her  account. 

"I  am  sorry,  Elizabeth/'  she  answered  un 
comfortably.  "  Perhaps  Mr.  Drummond  would 
exchange  me  for  Jean  or  Olive.  I  didn't 
know  you  cared  so  much  about  my  driving 
with  you." 

Jean  and  Olive  both  shook  their  heads 
decidedly,  and  Frieda  gazed  at  Elizabeth  in 
stern  disapproval;  but  Mr.  Drummond,  who 
was  also  accustomed  to  having  his  own  way, 


"OLD   FAITHFUL."  201 

settled  the  matter.  "You'll  take  the  ride 
with  me  this  morning,  Miss  Ralston/7  he 
announced,  "then  you  can  devote  yourself 
to  your  friend  later  in  the  day  if  you  like." 
And  Elizabeth  was  obliged  to  be  content. 

Jack  was  convinced  she  had  never  had 
such  a  wonderful  ride  in  her  life,  never  had 
she  felt  in  such  glorious  health  and  spirits. 
Her  horse  moved  along  under  her  with  a  gait 
to  which  she  was  entirely  unaccustomed.  Only 
shaggy  bronchos  and  rough  western  ponies 
had  been  her  mounts  until  to-day,  and  now 
she  was  on  the  back  of  a  beautiful  Kentucky 
thoroughbred,  riding  over  a  perfect  road,  very 
different  from  the  long  stretches  of  sand  on 
the  plains.  The  two  riders  had  galloped  on 
for  several  miles  without  a  word,  Peter  keep 
ing  a  little  in  the  background  to  enjoy  the 
wonderful  grace  and  ease  of  Jack's  horse 
manship. 

Suddenly  the  girl  reined  in  her  horse  and 
the  man  slowed  down.  "I  want  to  thank 
you  for  this  glorious  ride  now  while  I  have 
the  chance/'  she  said  simply.  "  Sometimes 
I  wish  I  could  spend  my  whole  life  in  the 
saddle,  I  love  it  so.  I  hope  I  wasn't  selfish 
in  not  driving  with  Elizabeth  Harmon.  I  am 
so  horribly  sorry  for  people  who  can't  ride 


202        RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  walk  and  swim  and  enjoy  the  things  I  do, 
I  would  do  nearly  anything  in  the  world  for 
them/'  she  ended  wistfully.  And  for  a  long 
time  afterward  Mr.  Drummond  remembered 
what  Jack  had  said  and  her  beauty  and  care 
less  vigor  as  she  spoke,  with  her  hands  hold 
ing  her  mare's  reins  lightly  but  firmly  and  her 
body  keeping  perfect  rhythm  with  its  every 
movement. 

The  two  riders  came  to  the  neighborhood 
of  the  great  geyser  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
coaching  party.  They  rode  up  to  within  a 
reasonable  distance  of  the  queer,  symmetrical, 
cone-shaped  hill.  There  were  a  few  people 
waiting  about,  but  the  place  was  quite  peace 
ful  and  showed  no  sign  of  the  leaping  torrent 
of  water  Jack  anticipated.  She  was  intending 
to  dismount  from  her  horse  when  the  stage 
arrived.  Suddenly  a  roar,  like  a  giant's 
snort,  came  from  beneath  the  earth  and  al 
most  instantly  steaming  water  began  to  rise 
through  the  mouth  of  the  cone  in  glistening, 
gleaming  bubbles,  then  a  giant  cataract 
reared  itself.  Jack  and  Peter  Drummond 
had  been  too  surprised  at  the  geyser's  sud 
den  display  of  its  powers  to  get  off  their 
horses  at  once,  and  Jack's  thoroughbred  was 
not  trained  to  endure  any  such  exhibition  of 


OLD  FAITHFUL. 


the  unknown  forces  of  nature.  Her  whole 
body  quivered  as  though  she  had  been  struck 
a  cruel  blow,  then,  making  a  leap  straight 
into  the  air  and  coming  down  on  her  two 
hind  feet,  she  began  to  dance  and  curvet  and 
leap  about  as  though  bewitched.  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  had  a  horrified  moment  of  fearing  Jack 
would  be  dreadfully  injured,  but  he  was  too 
engaged  in  quieting  his  own  horse's  terror  to 
give  her  aid.  The  coaching  party  arrived 
on  the  scene  at  this  minute  and  they  were 
torn  between  interest  in  the  marvelous  geyser 
and  concern  for  Jack's  safety. 

Jack  proved  her  horsemanship  by  recogniz 
ing  that  the  high-strung  animal  she  was 
riding  required  a  different  treatment  from 
one  of  her  rough  ponies.  Never  once  did 
she  use  her  whip  on  the  pretty  mare,  but 
talked  to  her  in  a  gentle,  soothing  tone, 
keeping  her  nose  turned  directly  toward  the 
roaring  stream  of  water,  so  that  the  mare 
should  not  bolt  and  run  on  hearing  extraor 
dinary  noises  at  her  back. 

In  four  or  five  minutes  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  gallons  of  scalding  water  had 
been  raised  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
the  air,  held  for  a  little  time  and  then  dashed 
down  to  earth  again,  and  "Old  Faithful"  was 


204        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

once  more  peaceful  for  exactly  an  hour  and 
ten  minutes. 

But  in  this  period  Jacqueline  had  brought 
her  horse  to  a  quivering  standstill  not  far 
from  the  geyser.  Elizabeth  Harmon  was 
pale  with  fright  and  her  eyes  were  full  of 
tears  of  apprehension,  but  Frieda  was  merely 
interested  in  her  sister's  performance,  as  she 
had  not  the  least  idea  of  her  being  hurt. 

In  a  few  seconds  after  the  excitement  had 
passed,  Jim  Colter  leapt  out  of  the  stage  and 
walked  toward  Jack.  " Bravo!77  he  said,  as 
she  slid  off  her  mare,  handing  her  reins  to 
Mr.  Drummond. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  continued 
stiffly — Mr.  Drummond's  citified  elegance  had 
irritated  him — "I  couldn't  help  feeling  some 
pride  in  Miss  Ralston's  cool  head.  When 
it  comes  to  a  question  of  nerve,  Jack,  you 
certainly  have  got  the  right  stuff  in  you/'  he 
concluded.  And  Jack  blushed  happily,  be 
cause  Jim's  praises  were  rare,  not  caring  half 
so  much  that  her  new  friend  was  even  more 
impressed  by  her  courage  than  her  old  one. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS 

ALL  that  was  possible  of  geyserland  was 
seen  by  the  ranch  girls  and  their 
friends  during  the  long  day:  gey 
sers  alive  and  dead,  spouting  and  silent, 
great  and  small,  and  all  the  magic,  shining 
pools  in  the  neighborhood,  until  there  seemed 
no  words  left  for  wonderment  and  no  strength 
for  further  admiration.  The  coaching  party 
had  brought  with  them  the  clothes  and  sup 
plies  they  would  need  for  several  days  and 
nights,  as  they  meant  to  make  the  tour  of 
the  Park  before  returning  to  their  starting 
place,  spending  the  nights  in  the  various 
hotels  along  their  route. 

Mr.  Drummond  had  intended  to  return  to 
the  Lake  the  same  evening,  but  this  was 
before  he  spent  a  picnic  day  with  the  ranch 
girls.  After  a  hurried  consultation  with  Jim 
he  decided  to  go  on  with  the  travelers. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  first 
day,  when  Mrs.  Harmon  and  Ruth  found  a 

(205) 


206        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

bit  of  wild  woodland  and  declared  they  must 
rest  and  not  see  another  sight.  They  were 
in  walking  distance  of  the  hotel  where  they 
were  to  spend  the  night,  and  Jim  and  Mr. 
Drummond  went  ahead  with  the  horses  and 
coach  to  see  what  arrangements  had  been 
made  for  their  comfort. 

The  two  older  women  were  getting  out  the 
tea  basket  and  lighting  their  alcohol  lamp, 
when  Jean  and  Donald  insisted  on  trying  to 
boil  the  water  at  one  of  the  hot  springs  in 
the  neighborhood.  Olive,  Frieda  and  Carlos 
followed  them,  Frieda  anxious  to  avert  a 
tragedy.  Having  read  in  her  guidebook  that 
a  small  dog,  leaping  into  the  pool  for  a  stick, 
had  been  boiled  and  sizzled  to  death,  she 
was  determined  that  no  one  of  them  should 
meet  the  same  fate. 

As  Elizabeth  was  tired,  Jack  stayed  be 
hind  with  her,  letting  the  sick  girl  rest  her 
head  in  her  lap  while  they  talked  of  the  day's 
experiences. 

Suddenly  Elizabeth  sat  up.  "Let  me  do 
your  hair  for  you,  Jack,"  she  begged.  "I 
want  to  see  it  over  your  shoulders.  I  know 
it  is  prettier  than  mine;  and  for  once  I  won't 
be  jealous."  Instead  of  two^  long  braids 
Jack,  in  honor  of  her  ride  with*  Mr.  Drum- 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS.    207 

mond,  had  twisted  her  hair  into  a  coronet. 
Slowly  Elizabeth  began  to  unwind  it. 

"Of  course  my  hair  isn't  prettier  than 
yours,"  Jack  protested.  "It  is  not  so  lovely 
and  shiny.  Nobody  thinks  it  is  even  half  so 
nice  as  Frieda's  or  Jean's  or  Olive's,  and  I 
don't  care  a  bit,  neither  do  you,  you  goose." 

Elizabeth  sighed.  "Yes,  I  do,  Jack,"  she 
confessed  honestly.  "You  don't  care  because 
you  have  so  much,  but  I  have  so  little  I  am 
awfully  jealous  and  envious." 

Jack's  frank  face  clouded.  She  did  not  know 
exactly  what  to  say  to  so  queer  a  girl  as 
Elizabeth  Harmon.  The  ranch  girls  never 
preached,  and  Jack  was  not  inclined  to  be 
critical,  always  preferring  action  to  speech,  so 
that  now  she  found  herself  in  deep  water. 

"Look  here,  Elizabeth,"  she  said  a  moment 
later,  with  a  wisdom  greater  than  she  dreamed, 
"I  believe  you  make  yourself  sicker  by  think 
ing  so  much  about  your  illness  and  worrying 
about  the  things  you  can't  do.  I  know  it 
is  awfully  hard,  but  if  you'll  promise  me  while 
you  are  out  west  to  try  every  day  to  see  if 
you  can  walk  a  little  farther  and  eat  more 
and  not  be  cross,  why,  I'll  do  most  anything 
in  the  world  for  you." 

"Will  you  come  and  stay  with  me  at  Rain- 


208        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

bow  Lodge  and  let  the  others  go  on  with 
their  holiday?"  Elizabeth  begged. 

Jack  laughed  and  shook  her  head.  "I 
couldn't  do  that,  dear.  I  should  feel  too  queer 
and  homesick  to  be  visiting  in  my  own  home." 

"Then  you'll  come  to  New  York  next 
winter  to  stay  with  me?"  Elizabeth  demanded. 
"That  will  be  best  of  all.  It  seems  so  funny 
to  me  that  you've  never  been  in  a  theater 
or  to  a  big  restaurant  or  to  any  large  city!" 

"I'd  love  to  come,  Elizabeth,"  Jack  agreed, 
"but  you  mustn't  expect  me,  for  you  know 
we  ranch  girls  haven't  any  money  except 
just  enough  to  live  on,  and  I  couldn't  possibly 
take  more  than  my  share  for  such  a  trip." 

Elizabeth  pouted.  "You  don't  know  what 
it  means  not  to  be  rich,  Elizabeth,"  Jack 
explained.  "Here  come  the  others,  thank 
goodness!  I  am  nearly  starved." 

When  Frieda,  Carlos  and  Olive  appeared, 
their  hands  were  filled  with  every  variety  of 
lovely  wild  flower.  They  had  been  search 
ing  the  woods  and  hills  for  them,  while  Jean 
and  Donald  hung  over  the  boiling  pool  with 
their  kettle  swung  in  the  water  by  a  long 
string.  Olive  and  the  two  children  flung 
their  flowers  in  a  heap  in  Ruth's  lap.  "Give 
us  a  botany  lesson  on  the  Park  flewers  when 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS.  209 

tea  is  over,  Ruth/'  Olive  suggested.  "  I  wish 
I  knew  as  much  about  them  as  you  do." 

It  was  a  beautiful  afternoon,  warm  even 
for  July  in  this  part  of  the  country,  although 
the  whole  month  had  been  such  a  mild  one 
that  the  peaks  of  the  snow-capped  Yellow 
stone  mountains  were  less  white  than  usual, 
from  the  melting  of  the  snow.  Nobody 
seemed  inclined  to  stir  when  tea  was  over. 
Ruth  was  idly  twining  a  wreath  of  the  wild 
flowers,  when  Jean  flung  herself  down  by  her. 

"  Don't  give  us  a  real  botany  lesson,  Ruth," 
Jean  exclaimed.  "  I  have  thought  of  a  much 
prettier  idea.  Suppose  you  tell  us  our  char 
acters  in  flowers.  Give  each  one  of  us  a 
special  posy  and  then  tell  us  the  names  and 
habits  of  the  flower,  and  say  why  you  think 
we  are  like  them." 

Ruth  laughed.  "That's  a  small  order, 
Miss  Bruce,"  she  answered;  "but  if  Mrs. 
Harmon  dosen't  mind  our  foolish  ways  of 
having  a  good  time  together,  I'll  do  my  best." 

Elizabeth  sat  up  and  a  faint  sparkle  came 
into  her  eyes  and  a  color  in  her  face.  "  I 
should  dearly  love  to  hear  our  flower  natures," 
Mrs.  Harmon  returned,  as  eager  and  inter 
ested  as  any  one  of  the  company. 

Ruth  surveyed  her  bouquet  critically. 
14 


210        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT    OF  GOLD. 

From  the  center  of  the  tangled  mass  in  her 
lap  she  carefully  selected  a  thick  cluster  of 
deep  blue  forget-me-nots,  and  with  a  per 
fectly  serious  face  leaned  over  and  stuck 
them  into  Jean's  brown  hair. 

"  Here,  Jean,  suppose  we  begin  with  you," 
she  suggested.  "I  believe  a  forget-me-not  is 
your  flower. " 

Jean  blushed  a  soft  rose  color  that  no 
one  saw  except  Ruth.  "I  don't  see  why 
you  select  a  forget-me-not  for  my  flower, 
Ruth,  dear,"  Jean  remarked  innocently.  "I 
haven't  forget-me-not  eyes,  like  Elizabeth  and 
Frieda,  and  I'm  not  a  wonderful,  unforgettable 
person,  like  Olive  or  Jack." 

"Never  mind,  Jean,  I  have  my  own  reasons 
for  the  choice,"  Ruth  returned,  and  Jean  sud 
denly  flung  her  arms  around  Frieda  and  drew 
her  to  her  lap,  so  that  no  one  should  see  her 
face. 

"Olive,  dear,  you  are  an  evening  primrose," 
Ruth  declared,  smiling  at  her  own  fancy. 
"I  have  an  idea  that  part  of  the  time  you 
close  up  your  real  feelings  inside  you,  just  as 
this  flower  hides  its  blossoms  in  the  daytime. 
It's  almost  sunset  now  and  time  for  it  to  show 
its  delicate,  pink  petals.  Don't  let  yourself 
grow  too  reserved,  dear.  Jack  has  your  eon- 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS.    211 

fidence  now,  but  some  day  it  may  be  best 
for  the  rest  of  us  to  know  your  real  dreams 
and  desires."  Ruth  handed  a  spray  of  the 
blossoms  to  Olive,  with  a  smile  as  an  apology 
for  her  little  sermon,  though  it  was  well  meant 
and  timely. 

"  Can't  you  find  a  flower  for  me?"  Beth 
asked  wistfully,  her  thin  face  looking  whiter 
than  usual  from  her  fatigue  and  in  contrast 
with  the  brilliant,  glowing  health  of  the 
ranch  girls. 

Ruth  looked  at  the  spoiled  girl  tenderly. 
Like  Jack,  she  had  taken  more  of  a  fancy  to 
her  than  to  any  member  of  the  Harmon 
family. 

"Here  is  a  flower  for  you,  Beth?"  she  re 
turned  gently.  "I  hope  you  will  like  it.  See, 
it's  pure  white  and  like  velvet,  and  though  it 
looks  fragile  and  delicate  it  keeps  its  beauty 
longer  than  any  of  the  other  flowers.  Out 
here  in  the  West  they  call  it  an  'immortelle.' 
It  is  a  prettier  name  than  our  eastern  title  of 
'everlasting.'" 

Elizabeth's  eyes  swam  with  tears  of  pleas 
ure,  and  Jack,  reaching  over,  found  the  white 
buds  in  Ruth's  lap  and  made  them  into  a 
crown  for  her  friend's  flowing  gold  hair,  until 
in  the  soft  light  the  pale  girl  looked  like  a 


RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 


mythical  princess  in  an  old  Scandinavian 
legend. 

Frieda's  eyes  were  big  and  wistful  and  her 
lips  trembled  slightly,  for  she  was  not  ac 
customed  to  being  overlooked  while  a  strange 
girl  was  made  much  of  by  her  own  sister; 
indeed  both  Olive  and  Frieda  had  to  stifle 
many  pangs  of  jealousy  at  Jack's  interest  in 
Elizabeth  Harmon. 

But  fortunately  Ruth  caught  Frieda's  ex 
pression.  "Dear  me,  baby,  I  haven't  for 
gotten  you,"  she  announced.  "  Won't  you 
be  a  bitter-root  blossom?  The  flower  hasn't 
a  pretty  name,  but  you  remember  it  was  the 
first  you  gathered  when  we  entered  the  park 
yesterday,  and  the  reason  I  select  it  for  you 
is  because  the  old  gypsy  fortune  teller  said 
you  were  sweet  and  good  enough  to  eat,  and 
this  flower  is  used  for  food  by  the  Indians, 
isn't  it,  Carlos?" 

Frieda  now  smiled  placidly,  not  under 
standing  Ruth's  meaning  nor  any  of  the 
other  nonsense  they  were  talking,  but  just 
the  same  not  wishing  to  be  ignored. 

"Now  we  all  have  our  flowers  except  Jack," 
Olive  remarked  fondly. 

"  Oh,  Ruth  hasn't  a  flower  for  me.  She  has 
exhausted  the  whole  collection,"  Jack  an- 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS.    213 

swered.  "It  is  just  as  well,  for  I  am  the 
most  prosaic  and  unflowerlike  character  in 
the  entire  assembly. " 

"I  don't  believe  that,  Miss  Ralston/7  Mrs. 
Harmon  exclaimed,  breaking  unexpectedly 
into  the  conversation.  "You  are  not  like 
the  other  girls — I  never  saw  girls  so  unlike 
as  you  ranch  girls.  I  suppose  you  mean  that 
you  are  more  matter-of-fact  and  have  less 
sentiment  than  they  have,  but  you  would  do 
anything  for  a  person  you  loved  and  you 
would  never  turn  back  from  what  you  thought 
to  be  right.  You'd  face  danger,  like — well, 
like  we  ought  all  to  face  it,"  she  ended 
seriously. 

Olive  kissed  her  hand  to  Jack.  "She  has 
done  all  that  for  me,"  she  murmured,  but 
Jack  shook  her  head,  not  wishing  the  Har 
mons  to  know  anything  of  Olive's  past,  and 
no  questions  were  asked. 

"Oh,  no,  I  haven't  forgotten  Jack.  I  have 
purposely  saved  the  columbine  for  her," 
Ruth  replied.  "I  must  agree  with  Mrs. 
Harmon,  for  it  is  an  aspiring  flower  and  grows 
taller  than  any  of  the  other  wild  flowers. 
And  I  am  sure  it  has  deep,  ardent  impulses; 
for  see  all  its  beautiful  colors  from  pure  white 
to  rich  purple!" 


214        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Jack  blushed  uncomfortably.  "Hear, 
hear!"  Jean  exclaimed  half  in  fun  and  half 
in  earnest.  "For  goodness'  sake,  don't  shower 
any  more  compliments  on  Jacqueline  Ralston 
or  we  won't  be  able  to  live  with  her.  I  don't 
see  why  you  find  so  many  marvelous  virtues 
in  her.  Consider  what  an  angel  I  am,  and 
yet  nobody  is  devoting  her  time  to  men 
tioning  my  noble  qualities." 

Jack  extracted  a  sofa  cushion  from  Eliza 
beth's  pile,  flinging  it  with  accurate  aim 
straight  at  her  cousin's  head.  Jean  returned 
it  with  interest  and  then  the  girls  chased  one 
another  around  the  trees  until  they  were  out 
of  breath. 

A  little  later  Mr.  Drummond  and  Jim 
Colter  were  seen  walking  toward  them,  sum 
moning  them  to  the  hotel.  The  entire  com 
pany  gathered  up  their  belongings,  and 
Donald  carried  his  sister  to  a  rolling  chair 
which  they  had  brought  along  in  the  stage. 

Jean  lingered  a  little  in  the  background, 
putting  her  arm  about  Ruth's  waist  to  draw 
her  away  from  the  others. 

"Ruth,  dear,"  she  said,  with  a  far-away 
expression  in  her  eyes,  "you've  a  tiny  flower 
in  your  buttonhole  which  has  been  there  all 
day.  I  wonder  if  Jim  gave  it  to  you?" 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  FLOWERS. 

Ruth  nodded.  "Why  do  you  ask?"  she 
inquired. 

"Oh,  for  no  particular  reason,"  Jean  an 
swered,  "only  I  happen  to  know  that  Jim 
got  up  soon  after  daylight  this  morning,  and 
climbed  for  miles  and  miles  up  a  steep  hill. 
Why  don't  you  choose  that  flower,  Ruth,  as 
appropriate  to  your  character?"  Jean  pro 
posed,  and  her  expression  was  so  innocent 
that  Ruth  began  to  guess  at  her  meaning. 

"The  flower  is  called  Indian  Paint  Brush," 
Jean  continued;  "but  the  name  has  nothing 
to  do  with  you.  It  is  only  that  it  grows  on 
the  peaks  of  high,  cold  mountains  and  one 
has  to  climb  and  climb  and  struggle  and 
struggle  to  reach  it.  Poor  old  Jim!" 

Ruth  made  no  reply  to  her  saucy  com 
panion,  but  hurried  on  to  join  the  rest  of  the 
party. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN" 


IT  was  Frieda  who  first  found  words  to 
speak. 
After    several    days    more    of    travel 
and  sight-seeing,   the   caravaners    and   their 
friends  stood  on  a  rocky  balcony  gazing  at 
the  Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  as  they 
dashed  over  rocks  streaked  with  red,  orange, 
purple  and  gold  into  the  gorge  below. 

"It  is  the  end  of  the  rainbow,  I  know  it 
is,  Mr.  Peter  Drummond,"  Frieda  remarked 
confidentially  to  her  companion  who  had 
tight  hold  of  her  hand  so  she  should  not  go 
too  close  to  the  steep  embankment.  "Jean 
and  Jack  have  often  told  me  wonderful 
stories  of  finding  a  pot  of  gold  at  the  end  of 
the  rainbow.  Now  I  know  better,  for  this 
is  really  the  place  where  the  rainbow  touched 
the  earth  and  all  her  beautiful  colors  spilled 
out  and  ran  into  these  rocks." 

Jack,  who  overheard  her  sister's  speech, 
dropped  down  on  one  knee  and  respectfully 

(216) 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN."      217 

kissed  her  hand.  "  Never  did  I  dream  until 
this  minute  that  you  were  a  poet,  Frieda 
Ralston/7  she  exclaimed.  "That  is  a  per 
fectly  lovely  idea  of  yours  about  the  rain 
bow,  but  you  must  not  let  Mr.  Drummond 
think  the  rainbow  ends  anywhere  except  on 
our  ranch,  else  why  should  we  call  it  the 
Rainbow?  He  has  promised  to  come  some 
day  to  see  for  himself." 

It  was  early  morning,  the  sun  had  just 
risen  and  the  dawn  colors  were  now  slowly 
fading  out  of  the  sky.  The  tourists  had 
arrived  at  the  hotel  near  the  Canyon  late 
the  afternoon  before,  and  had  gone  to  bed  as 
soon  as  possible  so  as  to  see  the  latest  marvel 
by  daylight.  To-day  was  to  end  their  sight 
seeing  expedition  through  the  Yellowstone 
Park.  Next  morning  they  were  to  take  the 
train  back  to  their  starting  place  at  the 
Lake;  from  there  the  Harmons  were  to  leave 
for  Rainbow  Ranch,  Mr.  Drummond  to  con 
tinue  his  trip  west  and  Jim  to  escort  Ruth 
and  the  ranch  girls  to  a  little  village  in  the 
mountains  near  the  Park,  where  they  were 
to  spend  the  rest  of  the  summer.  Then  he 
intended  to  make  his  way  home  to  the  ranch 
and  get  back  to  work  as  quickly  as  possible. 

In  the  course  of  their  travels,  Jim  had  found 


218        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

time  to  tell  the  girls  of  Mr.  Harmon's  pro 
posal  to  buy  their  ranch,  but  they  had  laughed 
the  suggestion  to  scorn  and  he  had  written 
Mr.  Harmon  that  they  would  not  consider 
selling.  Also  Jim  had  explained  the  matter 
more  fully  to  Mrs.  Harmon,  asking  her  to 
make  things  clear  to  her  husband  on  her 
return  to  the  Lodge — Rainbow  Ranch  was 
not  in  the  market. 

"  Peter  is  coming  to  the  ranch  on  his  way 
back  to  New  York,  perhaps/ '  Frieda  said. 
In  the  last  few  days  she  had  grown  to  be  al 
most  as  intimate  with  Mr.  Drummond  as 
her  sister,  and  had  also  been  allowed  to  ride 
his  wonderful  horse.  Jean  and  Olive  had 
enjoyed  their  turns,  but  Jack  had  received 
the  lion's  share  of  attention  from  their  new 
acquaintance.  Once  or  twice  Mr.  Drum 
mond  had  been  almost  persuaded  to  tell  her 
of  the  girl  in  the  East  whom  he  intended  to 
forget. 

" Misses  Frieda  and  Jacqueline  Ralston/7 
Mr.  Drummond  said  five  minutes  later,  "I 
am  persuaded  that  these  mighty  Falls  and 
this  giant  Canyon  may  remain  in  the  land 
scape  for  some  years  to  come,  but  /  shall  not 
live  much  longer  unless  we  go  back  to  our 
hotel  for  breakfast.  I  have  noticed  our  party, 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN."     219 

and  they  are  pale  and  silent  from  exhaustion. 
Never  did  I  approve  of  before-breakfast  ex 
cursions.  Let  us  make  a  start  for  the  hotel 
and  see  if  they  don't  follow  suit/' 

The  entire  company  was  standing  in  little 
groups  at  some  distance  apart.  Elizabeth 
had  been  taking  Jack's  advice  and  walking 
more  in  the  last  few  days  than  she  had 
dreamed  possible;  now  she  was  leaning  on 
Donald's  arm,  having  come  all  the  way  from 
the  hotel  on  foot.  Jack,  Frieda  and  Mr. 
Drummond  turned  to  go  down  the  hill,  when 
Elizabeth  caught  sight  of  them.  She  was 
worn  and  tired,  for  her  walk  had  been  too 
much  for  her,  irritable  on  account  of  her 
fatigue  and  in  a  general  bad  humor  with 
everybody. 

"I  say,  Jack,  where  are  you  going?"  Eliza 
beth  called  out  suspiciously  in  a  high,  clear 
voice.  "You  are  always  going  off  somewhere 
with  Mr.  Drummond.  It  is  quite  impossible 
to  keep  up  with  you." 

Jack  and  her  companions  stopped  stock 
still,  Ruth  and  Jim  looked  around  in  sur 
prise,  Mrs.  Harmon  blushed,  and  some  strang 
ers  from  the  hotel  laughed  impertinently. 
Jack's  temper  got  the  best  of  her.  Her 
heart  pounded  and  the  pupils  of  her  eyelids 


220        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

darkened  until  they  were  almost  black;  her 
mouth  was  opened  to  speak. 

"  Steady,  Miss  Jack/'  Peter  Drurnmond 
whispered  quickly.  "  Remember,  Elizabeth  is 
ill  and  so  tired  she  does  not  know  what  she 
is  saying." 

"We  are  going  to  the  hotel  to  breakfast, 
Beth,"  Jack  answered  quietly,  instead  of  the 
speech  she  had  intended  to  make.  "Don't 
you  want  to  come  with  us?  Let  me  help  you." 
Jack  turned  back  toward  her  friend  and  found 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  regret.  Breaking 
away  from  Donald,  Elizabeth  grasped  Jack's 
arm,  but  was  hardly  able  to  stand,  even  with 
her  assistance. 

"Elizabeth  isn't  able  to  walk  back  to  the 
hotel,  Donald,"  Mrs.  Harmon  said  at  this 
moment.  "Won't  you  go  ahead  and  bring 
back  her  chair?  And  I  will  wait  here  with  her, 
so  no  one  else  must  stay  on  our  account." 

Elizabeth  shook  her  head,  setting  her  white 
lips  obstinately.  "I  can  walk  perfectly 
well,"  she  insisted.  "Jack  says  it  is  much 
better  for  me  to  make  the  effort."  Mrs. 
Harmon  looked  reproachfully  at  Jack,  and  the 
young  girl  blushed  uncomfortably  over  hav 
ing  the  responsibility  thrust  upon  her. 

"I  only  meant  for  Beth  to  walk  a  little 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN." 


at  a  time.     I  didn't  mean  for  her  to  overdo 
herself/7  she  tried  to  explain. 

By  this  time  Olive  and  Donald  had  gone 
on  ahead.  Ruth  and  Jim,  with  Carlos  between 
them,  had  turned  toward  the  hotel,  the 
strangers  had  departed,  and  Mr.  Drummond 
and  Frieda  were  waiting,  not  too  patiently,  a 
little  distance  off. 

Mrs.  Harmon  took  her  daughter's  other 
arm  and  the  three  women  started  onward, 
but  it  was  soon  plain,  even  to  Elizabeth, 
that  she  could  not  go  on.  With  a  petulant 
sigh  she  dropped  on  the  ground.  "Go  and 
leave  me,  please,  everybody,  "  she  insisted. 
"I  sha'n't  mind  waiting  alone,  and  I  don't 
care  for  any  breakfast." 

Mrs.  Harmon  signaled  to  Jack.  "Run 
along,  dear,  and  ask  Don  to  hurry,"  she  mur 
mured  quietly,  but  Elizabeth  reached  up  and 
caught  hold  of  Jack's  skirt.  "If  anybody's 
to  stay  with  me,  let  it  be  you,  Jack,"  she 
pleaded.  "I  have  something  I  want  so  much 
to  say  to  you  alone.  It's  most  important,  and 
you'll  be  awfully  sorry  if  you  don't  listen." 

"What  can  you  have  to  say  to  Miss  Ral 
ston,  Elizabeth?"  Mrs.  Harmon  inquired 
nervously. 

"Oh,  it  is  a  secret  between  father  and  me," 


222        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Beth  returned  mysteriously.  "He  wants  me 
to  ask  Jack  something  and  not  to  let  any 
one  else  know  just  yet.  I  had  a  long  tele 
gram  from  him  last  night,  and  now  is  a  good 
time  to  ask  it." 

Reluctantly  Jacqueline  sat  down  near  Beth, 
for  she  did  not  wish  to  hear  a  secret  at  this 
hour  of  the  morning,  and  she  did  feel  faint 
and  hungry  for  her  breakfast.  Mrs.  Harmon 
moved  off,  taking  Mr.  Drummond  and  Frieda 
along  with  her.  The  Honorable  Peter  did  not 
look  any  too  pleased  at  what  he  considered 
the  sacrifice  of  Jack. 

As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  hearing,  Beth 
flung  her  arms  about  her  friend.  "I  am  so 
sorry  I  said  that  about  you  and  Mr.  Drum 
mond,  Jack,  dear,"  she  apologized.  "I  didn't 
mean  a  thing  by  it,  and  mother  says  it  may 
be  very  useful  to  you  ranch  girls  some  da\^ 
to  have  such  a  friend  as  Mr.  Drummond; 
he  may  be  able  to  do  a  lot  for  you." 

"All  right,  Beth,"  Jack  answered,  not  as 
affectionately  as  usual.  "But  don't  talk  about 
Mr.  Drummond's  being  useful  to  us.  I 
should  hate  to  have  a  friend  for  any  such 
horrid  reason." 

Beth's  delicate  arm  clung  to  Jack  with 
such  pathetic  appeal  that  she  was  soon  soft- 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN." 

ened.  "  What  was  it  you  wanted  to  tell  me?" 
she  asked  a  second  later. 

"I  want  you  to  do  the  most  wonderful 
and  beautiful  thing  for  me,  Jack,"  Elizabeth 
answered  passionately,  "and  what  you  do 
will  prove  whether  you  are  a  friend  of  mine 
and  want  me  near  you,  or  whether  you  have 
been  deceiving  me  all  this  time.  You  know 
you  promised  me  you  would  do  anything  I 
wished  on  this  trip,  if  I  would  walk  more  and 
try  not  to  be  cross,  and  I  have  tried  to  do  as 
you  said.  Promise  me,  promise  me,  you 
will  grant  my  request,  won't  you?  It  will  make 
me  so  happy!"  Elizabeth's  cheeks  burned 
with  the  strength  of  her  desire. 

41  What  in  the  world  are  you  talking  about?" 
Jack  queried,  feeling  her  heart  beat  uncom 
fortably. 

"Well,  father  wishes  me  to  persuade  you 
to  sell  him  part  of  your  ranch,"  Elizabeth 
explained  eagerly.  "You  see  I  wrote  him 
that  I  never  had  a  real  girl  friend  in  my 
life  until  now,  but  I  believed  you  cared  for 
me.  He  says  if  you  do,  you  will  let  him  have 
some  of  your  land,  so  that  he  can  build  a 
little  house  for  me.  He  wants  just  a  special 
part  of  the  ranch;  I  don't  understand  just 
what  part,  but  I  know  it  would  not  make 


224        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

any  difference  to  you,  for  it  is  somewhere  in 
the  neighborhood  of  your  creek.  Then  father 
wrote  that  if  you  would  do  this  for  me,  I 
could  invite  you  to  visit  me  in  New  York 
next  winter  and  he  would  pay  all  your  ex 
penses.  Oh,  wouldn't  it  be  too  heavenly!" 
Elizabeth  had  taken  her  arms  from  about 
Jack's  neck  and  was  clasping  her  hands  to 
gether  until  the  veins  showed  through  her 
white  skin.  But  Jack  was  as  white  as  her 
companion,  for  she  knew  how  difficult  it 
would  be  to  refuse  Elizabeth's  request  and 
not  bitterly  wound  her  feelings,  yet  the  answer 
must  be  made. 

"I  am  so  sorry,  dear,"  Jack  replied,  "but 
I  can't  sell  your  father  any  part  of  our  ranch. 
The  ranch  does  not  belong  to  me  alone  and, 
as  I  am  not  of  age,  Jim  Colter  is  our  guardian; 
and  he  would  never  consent  to  our  giving 
up  a  part  of  our  place.  Don't  you  see,  we 
need  it  all  to  raise  our  cattle,  and  the  creek 
vis  particularly  valuable.  I  can't  understand 
why  your  father  is  so  anxious  to  buy  the 
Rainbow  Ranch.  He  has  written  to  Jim  and 
made  him  an  offer  for  the  whole  place,  yet 
he  can  buy  other  land  near  us  without  any 
trouble,  for  Wyoming  is  rich  in  land."  Jack 
was  talking  as  fast  as  possible,  trying  not  to 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN."     225 

see  the  storm  of  tears  pouring  down  Eliza 
beth's  cheeks. 

"Then  you  positively  won't  sell  the  land, 
Jack?"  Elizabeth  interrupted.  "I  might 
have  known  you  didn't  really  care  for  me 
and  wouldn't  wish  me  to  live  near  you  for 
even  a  part  of  the  year,"  she  protested  bit 
terly.  "And  please  don't  preach  anymore, 
for  I  can  see  very  plainly  now  that  you  are 
not  the  kind  of  a  girl  who  can  be  relied  on 
to  keep  her  word.  I  would  rather  you  would 
not  stay  here  with  me.  I  can  manage  in  some 
way  to  get  down  the  hill.  I  certainly  shall 
not  let  you  touch  me." 

The  two  girls  were  seated  near  the  edge 
of  a  rocky  embankment  which  dropped  down 
into  terraced  ledges  of  stone  twenty,  then 
thirty,  then  forty  feet  below.  On  the  other 
side,  toward  the  right,  »the  hill  sloped  far 
more  gradually  and  a  road  had  been  cut 
leading  to  the  hotel. 

Elizabeth  was  so  angry  that  she  got  on 
her  feet  before  Jack  fully  realized  what  she 
was  doing.  Then,  as  Jack  made  a  detaining 
clutch  at  her,  she  lurched  away  toward  the 
left  near  the  jagged  precipice.  All  about  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Falls,  where  the  ground 
was  uncertain,  signs  were  set  up  bearing  the 

15 


RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

word  "  dangerous."  Jack  saw  in  a  moment 
of  horror  that  Elizabeth  was  tottering  to 
ward  one  of  these  places.  Whether  she 
screamed  or  not  she  did  not  know.  But 
Elizabeth  was  crying  and  could  not  see  the 
sign,  and  if  she  heard,  she  was  not  strong 
enough  to  stop  her  course  instantly.  As 
Jack  ran  toward  her  the  loose  earth  crumbled 
beneath  Elizabeth's  feet  and  she  slid  half 
over  the  precipice.  But  since  self-preserva 
tion  is  strong  in  all  of  us,  she  caught  with 
desperate  hands  at  some  low  shrubs  above 
her  head  and  hung  with  only  half  her  body 
over  the  cliff.  "Jack!"  she  called  just  once, 
and  was  silent,  putting  all  her  strength  in 
her  clinging  hands. 

It  is  said  that  the  drowning  have  a  vision 
of  all  that  has  happened  in  their  past,  as  the 
water  closes  over  them  for  the  last  time,  but 
Jacqueline  Ralston  had  a  vision  of  all  the 
peril  ahead  of  her  as  she  saw  her  friend's 
danger,  and  realized  what  she  must  do  to 
try  to  save  her.  Also  she  knew  in  this  mo 
ment  that  this  was  her  supreme  chance  to 
prove  she  would  do  anything  in  her  power 
for  a  friend. 

Jack  understood  that  she  could  not  walk 
out  on  the  ledge  of  loose  earth,  which  had 


"GREATER  LOVE  HATH  NO  MAN."     227 

already  failed  to  support  Elizabeth's  light 
weight,  and  so  pull  the  girl  back  to  safety.  By 
some  method  she  must  reach  up  to  her  from 
below.  Down  on  her  hands  and  knees,  testing 
cautiously  every  foot  of  the  way,  Jack  crawled 
on  until  she  found  a  side  of  the  cliff  that 
she  was  able  to  climb  down.  Then,  almost 
like  a  cat,  she  crept  along,  her  feet  on  incred 
ibly  small  protuberances  in  the  rocks  and  her 
hands  clutching  at  anything  she  could  find 
for  support.  Finally  she  reached  a  small 
platform  in  the  rocks  not  more  than  a  foot 
square,  but  directly  below  Elizabeth  and  within 
reach  of  her. 

"Be  quiet,  Beth,  and  as  I  push,  pull  up 
ward  with  all  your  might, "  was  all  she  trusted 
herself  to  say,  and  Elizabeth  was  beyond 
answering. 

Now  Jacqueline  Ralston  was  to  prove  how 
a  lifetime  spent  out  of  doors  may  give  one 
a  cool  head,  a  gallant  courage  and  muscles 
of  steel.  Taking  firm  hold  of  Elizabeth  just 
below  the  girl's  knees,  she  pushed  her  up, 
up,  inch  by  inch;  Elizabeth  stretching  out 
one  hand  at  a  time  to  grasp  the  shrubs  grow 
ing  in  the  more  solid  ground.  At  last,  with 
Jack's  strong  hands  below  her  feet  and  one 
more  shove,  Elizabeth  dragged  herself  out  of 


228        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

danger  and  lay  half  fainting  on  the  solid 
earth. 

Then  came  Jack's  peril.  All  this  time  while 
every  thought  and  effort  were  directed  to 
ward  her  friend's  rescue,  she  had  not  looked 
down  at  the  wicked  precipice  beneath  the 
narrow  ledge  of  rock  where  she  held  her 
footing.  But  the  instant  she  let  go  of  Eliza 
beth's  body  and  lost  the  slight  support  it 
had  given  her,  she  also  lost  the  steadying 
influence  that  she  must  fight  to  save  another 
weaker  than  herself,  and  glanced  downward. 
Then  whether  she  grew  dizzy  and  lost  her 
balance  or  whether  she  slipped  back  in  an 
effort  to  climb,  it  was  impossible  to  know,  but 
backward  she  fell  past  a  straight  cliff,  landing 
in  a  crumpled  mass  on  a  ledge  of  the  rainbow 
colored  stones  twenty  feet  below.  There  was 
no  movement  and  no  sound,  not  even  a  noise 
when  her  body  struck. 

"Jack!"  Elizabeth  called  faintly  a  moment 
later,  "  Jack!"  But  no  one  answered,  and  the 
silence  was  more  awful  than  any  sound. 
Only  a  great  golden  eagle  swooped  over  the 
open  gorge  as  though  trying  to  fathom  the 
tragedy  beneath. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   SUSPENSE   AND   WHAT   HAPPENED 
AFTERWARDS 

PETER  DRUMMOND,  returning  for  the 
two  girls  with  Donald,  found  Jack. 
Elizabeth,  who  had  not  dared  stir, 
could  only  point  dumbly  to  the  overhanging 
abyss,  without  voice  to  express  her  terror. 

Donald  got  his  sister  back  to  their  hotel, 
and  upstairs  in  the  room  with  her  mother, 
without  any  member  of  the  caravan  party 
knowing  of  their  return. 

In  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  men 
came  with  rope  ladders  to  where  Peter  watched 
and  waited,  and  one  of  them  brought  Jack's 
body  up,  putting  it  gently  down  on  the  grass. 
Some  one  else  explained  that  a  famous  doctor 
who  was  a  guest  at  the  hotel  would  be  with 
them  in  a  few  minutes. 

So  Mr.  Drummond,  alone  of  all  her  friends, 
knelt  with  the  strange  men  trying  to  find  a 
spark  of  life  in  the  unconscious  form  and 
still,  cold  face  of  the  girl  who  had  been  the 

(229) 


*30         RANCH   GIRLS'   POT  OF  GOLD. 

embodiment  of  grace  and  vitality  less  than  a 
half  hour  before. 

Jim,  Ruth,  the  three  other  girls  and  Carlos 
were  having  their  breakfast  in  the  dining 
room,  when  the  head  waiter  came  and  told 
Jim  that  Mr.  Drummond  wished  to  speak  to 
him  for  a  moment  alone  on  business. 

Xo  one  was  in  the  least  uneasy  about  Jack's 
failure  to  return.  As  it  was  natural  to  sup 
pose  it  would  take  some  time  to  see  Eliza 
beth  escorted  home  in  safety,  they  had  de 
cided  not  to  wait  for  her.  Besides,  no  one 
ever  thought  that  anything  could  happen  to 
Jack;  she  seemed  one  of  the  persons  in  the 
world  best  fitted  to  care  for  herself  and  to 
help  look  after  other  people.  Here  was  the 
old  story  once  more  repeating  itself:  when 
the  beloved  one  was  in  grave  danger,  as  Jack 
was  during  the  night  of  her  enforced  stay  in 
the  wilderness,  on  the  trip  to  Miner's  Folly, 
she  had  turned  up  serene  and  unhurt ;  now 
when  trouble  was  the  farthest  thing  from  their 
imagination,  she  was  being  brought  back  to 
them  and  no  one  knew  whether  she  were 
alive  or  dead. 

One  sight  of  Peter's  haggard  face  told  Jim 
that  something  had  happened,  but  he  sup 
posed  Elizabeth  Harmon  to  be  the  victim. 


THE   SUSPENSE.  231 

Peter  was  wise  enough  not  to  delay  in  letting 
him  know  the  truth.  There  is  no  easy  way 
to  break  bad  news,  for  the  shock  must  always 
come  in  the  end,  so  it  is  best  to  make  the 
suspense  as  short  as  possible.  Besides,  Mr. 
Drummond  knew  that  the  physician  was 
even  now  having  Jack  carried  home  to  the 
hotel  and  the  little  procession  might  arrive 
at  any  moment. 

The  girls  had  thought  nothing  of  Jim's 
disappearance,  from  the  table,  but  Ruth  had 
not  liked  the  expression  on  the  face  of  the 
man  who  called  him  away.  Suddenly  she 
was  seized  with  a  premonition  of  disaster. 
Excusing  herself,  with  the  explanation  that 
she  wanted  something  in  her  room,  she  slipped 
out  after  Jim  so  quietly  that  neither  he  nor 
Mr.  Drummond  saw  or  heard  her  approach 
until  Peter's  story  was  told.  And  then  it 
was  not  Ruth,  but  Jim  Colter  who  broke 
down.  The  big,  strong  man  staggered,  and 
such  a  queer  sound  came  from  between  his 
white  lips  that  Ruth  laid  a  shaking  hand  on 
him  and  Air.  Drummond  caught  him  by  the 
arm. 

"  Remember  the  girls,  Jim,"  Ruth  said 
almost  sternly.  "This  is  the  time  to  think 
of  them,  not  of  our  own  feelings.  Mr.  Drum- 


232         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

mond,  I  must  go  back  to  them  first.  Will  you 
see  that  everything  is " 

Ruth  could  not  go  on,  but  Peter  under 
stood.  He  was  to  see  that  all  necessary  ar 
rangements  were  made  to  receive  the  doctor, 
who  was  still  to  find  out  if  there  was  any 
chance  of  restoring  Jack  to  consciousness. 

By  the  time  Ruth  returned  to  the  dining 
room  the  news  of  the  accident  had  somehow 
spread  among  most  of  the  guests  at  break 
fast.  Only  the  ranch  girls  were  entirely 
unconscious.  Jean  was  teasing  Frieda  and 
Olive  was  laughing  at  them,  when  Ruth  put 
her  hand  on  Jean's  shoulder.  "Come  out 
of  the  room  with  me  as  quickly  and  quietly 
as  possible,"  she  whispered. 

"It's  Jack,  isn't  it?"  Olive  asked  with  the 
calmness  that  so  often  comes  in  the  first 
moment  of  sorrow,  and  Ruth  silently  bowed 
her  head. 

For  an  hour  Ruth  and  the  girls  waited  in 
their  room.  Ruth  and  Olive  had  asked  to 
see  Jack,  but  were  not  allowed  to  stay  with 
her.  Now  and  then  Mr.  Drummond,  or 
Donald  Harmon,  or  Jim  would  come  in  to 
them  for  a  few  moments,  but  would  soon 
slip  out  again  promising  to  return  when  there 
was  news.  Jean  and  Frieda  cried  in  each 


THE  SUSPENSE.  233 

other's  arms  until  they  were  blind  and  sick, 
but  neither  Olive  nor  Ruth  shed  a  tear,  so 
differently  do  people  bear  trouble.  It  seemed 
that  half  a  lifetime  must  have  passed  when 
the  door  was  suddenly  flung  open  and  Jim 
Colter  walked  into  the  room  and  dropped 
into  a  chair.  The  big,  weather-beaten  man 
was  crying  like  a  child  and  shaking  as  though 
he  were  in  a  chill.  Frieda  ran  to  him  and 
climbed  into  his  lap,  putting  her  arms  about 
his  neck  and  burying  her  face  on  his  shoulder. 
Olive  and  Jean  opened  their  mouths  to  speak, 
but  no  words  came  from  their  dry  lips.  The 
hope  that  had  been  sustaining  them  vanished 
at  the  sight  of  Jim's  broken  appearance. 
Only  Ruth  understood. 

"  Tell  us  at  once,  Jim.  It  isn't  fair  to  make 
us  wait,"  she  said  quietly,  guessing  that 
his  tears  were  the  tears  of  relief.  "She  will 
live?'5 

Jim  nodded.  "Jack  opened  her  eyes  a 
minute  ago  and  said,  'Hello,  Jim,' "  he  an 
swered  brokenly.  "The  doctor  says  she  is 
pretty  badly  hurt,  but  she  will  pull  through." 

Then  Ruth,  hardly  knowing  what  she  was 
doing,  leaned  over  and  kissed  Jim  on  his 
forehead  under  the  line  of  his  black  hair, 
and  above  the  level  of  his  deeply  blue  Irish 


234        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

eyes.  Quite  unexpectedly  she  and  Olive  now 
began  to  cry  for  the  first  time,  while  Jean  and 
Frieda  and  Jim  were  radiant  with  relief. 

Ten  days  later  the  family  from  the  Rainbow 
Ranch,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Drummond,  left 
the  Yellowstone  Park  for  a  small  town  on  its 
borders. 

Jack  was  able  to  be  moved,  and  they  had 
rented  a  little  furnished  house  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  near-by  village,  hoping  that  the 
quiet  and  change  of  scenery  might  benefit 
her.  She  had  broken  her  leg  by  her  fall 
over  the  precipice,  but  something  else  more 
serious  appeared  to  be  the  matter  with  her, 
something  that  the  doctor  did  not  exactly 
understand.  She  had  not  been  able  to  sit 
up  since  the  accident. 

A  week  before  the  ranch  party  left  the 
hotel,  the  Harmons  went  back  to  the  Lodge. 
When  Don  and  his  mother  found  they  could 
be  of  no  service,  it  was  thought  best  to  take 
Elizabeth  away,  for  she  had  never  ceased  to 
insist  that  the  tragedy  was  her  fault  and  to 
demand  to  see  Jack;  and  this  was  impossible. 
But  Mr.  Drummond  had  stayed  on  and  on. 
Even  after  he  had  seen  Jack  safely  moved 
he  seemed  unwilling  to  leave.  The  little 
house  was  so  tiny  that  there  was  only  room 


THE  SUSPENSE.  235 

for  them  and  on  the  front  porch  for  one  cot 
and  one  chair,  but  *he  lived  at  a  hotel  and 
came  each  day  to  talk  to  the  invalid  and  to 
take  the  other  girls  for  long  walks.  Peter 
had  a  long,  confidential  talk  with  Ruth  and 
Jim,  and  made  them  promise  that  unless  Jack 
grew  better  after  the  summer's  rest  they 
would  bring  her  on  to  New  York  in  the  fall 
to  consult  with  famous  specialists.  He  did 
not  dream  that  they  would  have  to  sell  a 
part  of  the  ranch  to  manage  it;  but  this  was 
what  they  had  quietly  made  up  their  minds 
to  do,  although  Jack  was  not  to  be  told,  for 
fear  of  upsetting  her,  and  Jim  did  not  mean 
to  close  the  bargain  with  Mr.  Harmon  until 
he  was  able  to  get  back  to  the  ranch. 

The  tiny  house  had  been  a  haven  of  refuge 
for  two  weeks  when  Peter  Drummond  found 
that  he  was  obliged  to  leave.  He  had  per 
suaded  the  girls  and  Ruth  to  go  for  a  last 
walk  with  him,  leaving  Jim  as  Jack's  guardian. 
She  was  asleep  on  the  porch  when  they  slipped 
out  the  back  door  so  quietly  she  had  not 
awakened. 

You  would  hardly  have  known  Jack,  so 
great  a  change  had  the  last  few  weeks  wrought 
in  her.  She  had  suffered  a  great  deal  and  the 
radiant  color  had  gone  from  her  face,  leaving 


236        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

it  white  and  drawn;  her  full,  crimson  lips 
were  pale  and  drooping  now;  her  dark,  level 
eyebrows  looked  like  thin  lines  of  black  pencil 
ing  and  her  lashes  made  a  shadow  against  the 
pallor  of  her  cheeks.  Only  her  hair,  the  color 
of  burnished  copper,  shone  with  its  old  beauty 
It  was  Olive's  special  care,  and  now  hung  in 
t'he  two  familiar  braids  almost  reaching  to  the 
porch  floor. 

Jack  had  been  awake  for  some  time  before 
Jim  realized  it.  She  had  been  very  quiet 
during  her  illness,  and  to  the  relief  of  them 
all  had  asked  no  questions  about  herself, 
apparently  taking  it  for  granted  that  she  was 
not  to  be  allowed  to  sit  up  and  could  only 
be  moved  lying  down.  Jack's  leg  was  in  a 
plaster  cast  and  her  friends  believed  she  re 
garded  this  as  a  sufficient  reason  for  being 
kept  perfectly  quiet.  Yet  all  the  time  she 
knew  that  had  her  leg  been  the  only  trouble 
she  would  have  been  allowed  to  get  about 
on  crutches  and  to  sit  up  to  eat  her  meals,  in 
stead  of  being  eternally  propped  on  pillows 
when  she  tried  to  stir. 

Jack  had  asked  no  questions,  because  she 
did  not  wish  to  give  anyone  the  pain  of  tell 
ing  her  the  truth  until  she  was  strong  enough 
to  bear  it.  But  there  had  not  been  a  waking 


THE  SUSPENSE.  237 

hour  in  the  day  or  night  when  the  vision 
of  Elizabeth  Harmon's  misfortune  had  not 
been  present  before  her  mind,  and  the  idea 
that  she  might  have  a  greater  sorrow  to  face. 
Frank  Kent  had  telegraphed  to  ask  if  he 
might  come  to  his  friends,  but  Jack  had 
asked  that  he  wait;  she  could  not  bear  to 
see  even  him  just  yet. 

Jim  Colter's  eyes  were  fixed  on  Jack  as 
sadly  and  tenderly  as  her  father's  could  have 
been,  had  he  been  alive,  when  unexpectedly 
she  lifted  her  lashes  and  her  gray  eyes  met 
her  friends  with  their  old  brave  spirit.  She 
stared  a  long  time  with  her  lips  twitching 
before  she  spoke. 

"What  is  it,  boss?  You've  got  something 
on  your  mind  that  you  want  to  speak  about, 
haven't  you?"  Jim  inquired  gently.  "The 
girls  think  it's  a  good  sign  you  don't  ask 
questions,  but  I'm  not  so  sure.  You  are 
like  some  men.  Dear,  I  know  you.  You  can 
take  your  medicine  when  you  have  to,  but 
you  can't  be  left  in  the  dark.  Ask  Jim  any 
thing  you  like,  and  I  promise  I'll  tell  you  the 
truth." 

"Are  we  by  ourselves?"  Jack  asked  huskily, 
and  Jim  nodded.  "Then  will  you  tell  me 
please  if  I  am  ever  going  to  be  able  to  walk 


238        RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

again?"  she  queried  without  hesitating  or 
faltering,  keeping  her  clear  eyes  still  on  Jim's. 

"We  don't  know,  Jack/'  Jim  replied,  like 
a  soldier,  "but  I  believe  you  will.  The  doctors 
we  have  seen  out  here  don't  seem  able  to  say 
just  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  They 
tell  us  to  give  you  a  chance  to  get  stronger 
this  summer  and  then  take  you  east." 

Jack  closed  her  eyes  for  a  few  moments 
and  lay  perfectly  still.  Then  she  opened  them 
and  smiled  a  queer,  little,  twisted  smile.  "  We 
haven't  got  the  money  to  take  me  east, 
pard/'  she  murmured,  "and  don't  you  sell 
any  part  of  our  ranch.  I'll  fool  the  doctors 
yet,  but  if  I've  got  to  be — ill,"  Jack  ended, 
"why  I'd  rather  be  sick  at  home  than  any 
place  in  the  world." 

Jim  cleared  his  throat  and  moved  his  chair 
so  his  companion  could  not  look  directly  at 
him. 

"Pardner,"  Jack  said  a  few  minutes  after 
wards,  "I  don't  want  to  be  impatient,  but 
I  do  want  to  go  home  now.  Couldn't  you 
write  and  ask  Mr.  Harmon  to  give  up  the 
ranch  a  little  sooner  than  October?  They 
can't  want  to  be  at  Rainbow  Lodge  as  much 
as  I  do."  She  looked  at  the  dark  hill  that 
rose  straight  up  in  front  of  their  tiny  ver- 


THE  SUSPENSE.  239 

andah  and  dreamed  of  the  beautiful,  spacious 
piazza  in  front  of  her  home,  with  the  grove 
of  cottonwood  trees  ahead  and  on  every  side 
the  stretch  of  the  broad,  wind-swept  prairies, 
and  sighed. 

Jim  felt  such  a  rush  of  anger  that  his  collar 
choked  him.  "I  have  written  Mr.  Harmon 
to  ask  him  to  let  us  come  back;  I  knew  you 
was  homesick,  boss/'  he  returned  slowly. 
"But  Mr.  Harmon  says  he  can7 1  give  up  the 
Lodge  until  his  contract  is  over,  says  it's 
doing  his  daughter  such  a  lot  of  good  and  she 
hasn't  yet  recovered  from  her  nervous  shock. 
Fine  behavior  from  a  man,  when  you  saved 
his  child's  life!" 

In  half  an  hour,  Ruth,  Mr.  Drummond,  the 
girls  and  Carlos  came  trooping  back  from  an 
effort  to  buy  out  the  village.  Peter  was 
going  to  say  good-by  to  Jack,  and,  as  Ruth 
Baw  she  was  even  paler  than  usual,  she  per 
suaded  Jean  to  take  the  two  children  indoors. 
They  had  brought  Jack  everything  they  could 
find  in  the  town,  and  Olive  had  a  large  pack 
age  addressed  to  her  friend  in  Elizabeth 
Harmon's  writing,  which  she  found  at  the 
post  office.  Listlessly  Jack  allowed  Olive  to 
cut  the  string  and  unwrap  the  pasteboard 
from  about  the  flat  envelope.  Then  Olive 


240        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

held  up  before  them  all  a  new  and  beautiful 
photograph  of  the  Rainbow  Lodge — Aunt 
Ellen  and  Uncle  Zack  were  standing  in  the 
yard,  old  Shep  was  resting  on  the  steps  of 
the  porch  and  there  was  a  suggestion  of  Jean's 
and  Frieda's  violet  beds  to  one  side.  Poor 
Elizabeth  had  thought  to  give  Jack  a  pleasure, 
but  instead  the  sight  of  the  home  she  longed 
for  so  intensely  was  more  than  the  girl  could 
bear  after  the  strain  of  the  afternoon.  Sud 
denly  she  gave  way  and  sobbed  as  she  had 
not  done  since  her  accident.  "I  want  to 
go  home,  I  want  to  go  home/'  Jack  repeated, 
like  a  sick  child. 

Ruth  dropped  on  the  porch,  hiding  her  face 
in  the  shawl  that  covered  Jack.  Olive  and  even 
Mr.  Drummond  were  too  choked  to  think  of 
anything  comforting  to  say.  And  as  for  Jim 
Colter,  he  got  up  and  stalked  off  the  verandah, 
marching  up  and  down  in  the  little  yard  like 
a  caged  animal  whose  anger  and  bitterness 
cannot  be  quietly  endured. 

Five  minutes  later  it  was  surprising  to  see 
him  reappear  with  a  radiant  expression, 
every  wrinkle  miraculously  smoothed  out  of 
his  face  and  his  blue  eyes  smiling.  He  sat 
down  in  his  chair  and  tenderly  patted  Jack's 
hand,  then  struck  his  knee  wit1"  such  a 


THE  SUSPENSE.  241 

resounding  clap  that  everybody  jumped  and 
Jack  laughed. 

"What  is  it,  Jim?"  she  inquired.  "I  am 
sorry  I  have  been  such  a  goose." 

"Why,  I  have  just  been  thinking  what  a 
parcel  of  idiots  we  are,"  he  said  happily. 
"You  girls  ain't  ever  thought  much  of  it, 
but  I  want  you  to  know  that  Rainbow  Lodge 
ain't  the  only  house  on  our  place.  What's 
the  matter  with  the  rancho?  We  ain't 
rented  it  to  the  Harmons,  and  the  cowboys 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  turn  out  with  me 
into  some  tents  and  hand  our  house  over  to 
you  girls.  What  do  you  say  to  our  taking 
the  train  for  the  Rainbow  Ranch  about  the 
day  after  to-morrow?  That  will  give  me  time 
to  telegraph  the  boys  to  vacate.  Think  you 
could  manage  to  make  the  trip  in  a  sleeper, 
old  girl,  with  me  to  see  after  you?"  he 
demanded  of  Jack. 

And  the  radiance  of  Jack's  face,  into  which  a 
slow  rose  color  was  creeping,  was  enough 
answer  for  them  all. 


16 


CHAPTER  XX 

FRANK  AND   JACK 

OLIVE,  Frank,  Jean,  what's  the  use  of 
being  a  professional  invalid  if  I'm 
to  be  shamefully  neglected?"  a  gay 
voice  called,  and  Jacqueline  Ralston,  who  was 
propped  up  in  a  big  steamer  chair  on  the  porch 
of  the  rancho,  banged  the  book  she  had  been 
reading  violently  against  the  railing.  A 
bright  colored  Mexican  shawl  covered  her 
knees,  she  wore  a  red  rose  stuck  carelessly  in 
her  hair,  and  the  verandah  on  which  she  was 
enthroned  was  like  a  Spanish,  American  and 
Italian  curiosity  shop.  Its  rough  wooden 
floor  was  overlaid  with  many  varieties  of 
Indian  blankets,  its  walls  were  decorated  with 
arrows,  old  pistols,  a  splendid  pipe-rack  of 
carved  wood  filled  with  discarded  pipes  ^  and 
the  skins  of  wild  animals.  Every  treasure 
possessed  by  the  cowboys  at  the  rancho  had 
been  brought  forth  to  make  an  outdoor  living 
room  for  "the  boss,"  which  had  always  been 
their  title  of  affection  for  their  youthful 

(242) 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  243 

employer.  Two  beautiful  Spanish  crepe 
shawls  were  draped  artistically  over  the  back 
of  Jack's  chair.  Years  before  they  had  been 
purchased  by  two  of  the  boys  at  the  rancho 
from  some  Spanish  peddlers  and  now,  much  to 
Jack's  regret,  they  insisted  that  the  shawls 
form  a  part  of  her  porch  decoration.  On  a 
table  near  the  invalid  sat  a  big  Indian  basket 
of  sunflowers,  another  of  oranges  and  grapes; 
a  pile  of  magazines,  which  Frank  Kent  had 
ridden  many  miles  to  find,  lay  near  a  box  of 
candy  from  Elizabeth  Harmon  and  a  vase  of 
red  roses  sent  by  Peter  Drummond  all  the  way 
from  California.  And  yet  Jack  was  feeling 
aggrieved. 

The  ranch  girls  had  been  for  little  more 
than  a  week  at  the  rancho.  The  third  day 
after  their  arrival  their  old  friend  Frank  Kent 
had  appeared,  refusing  to  be  kept  away  any 
longer.  He  had  expected  to  find  a  place  to 
board  in  the  neighborhood  so  that  he  could 
drive  over  each  day  to  see  the  girls,  but  Jim 
had  stored  him  away  in  one  of  the  tents, 
saying  he  thought  it  good  for  the  son  "of  a 
noble  lord"  to  try  roughing  it,  but  really 
knowing  that  it  would  give  Frank  great  pleas 
ure  to  be  with  them.  And  until  this  morning 
Frank  had  never  gotten  without  the  sound  of 


244         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Jack's  voice  if  he  thought  there  was  any 
possibility  of  her  needing  him. 

Jack  was  already  much  better  and  able 
to  sit  up  with  something  to  act  as  a  brace 
behind  her;  she  had  more  color  and  was 
beginning  to  be  her  old  impatient  self.  Early 
in  the  day  she  had  persuaded  Ruth  to  ride 
out  over  the  ranch  with  Jim.  Ruth  was  tired, 
having  unpacked  and  settled  them  at  the 
raneho,  and,  besides,  Jack  was  bored  with  Jim 
for  being  so  slow  in  coming  to  the  point  with 
Ruth  and  wanted  to  give  him  another  chance. 
She  and  Jean  had  been  dreadfully  disap 
pointed  that  nothing  had  happened  on  their 
caravan  trip,  but  Jack  had  not  expected,  when 
Ruth  left  her,  to  be  deserted  by  the  other 
ranch  girls  and  Frank,  for  they  had  been 
given  strict  orders  to  stay  at  home  and  amuse 
her. 

There  were  no  trees  to  be  seen  from  the 
front  of  the  rancho  as  there  were  at  the  Lodge, 
but  Jack  could  feast  her  eyes  on  the  wide 
stretches  of  her  beloved  plains  and  see  the 
cattle  grazing  in  the  last  crop  of  alfalfa  grass, 
which  grows  in  fullest  abundance  in  late 
August  and  is  the  color  of  amethyst.  No 
human  being  was  in  sight  but  Carlos,  who  was 
playing  with  a  rough,  gray-furred  animal  that 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  S45 

looked  like  a  cross  and  overgrown  puppy. 
It  was  the  baby  wolf  Carlos  had  found  in  the 
woods  on  the  day  he  deserted  Jack  at  the  gold 
mine.  The  boy  had  desired  to  introduce  it  as 
a  member  of  the  caravan  family,  but,  as  it 
had  not  been  found  a  cheerful  traveling  com 
panion,  Jim  had  shipped  it  home  to  the 
rancho  and  the  cowboys  had  been  amusing 
themselves  with  it.  It  growled  and  snapped 
and  bit  at  everybody  who  came  within  reach 
of  its  chain,  but  in  queer,  silent  Carlos  it 
recognized  a  master  spirit  in  the  kinship  of 
the  wilderness  and  played  with  the  boy  in 
a  perfectly  tame  and  friendly  way,  as  though 
he  were  its  big  brother. 

"Come  here,  Carlos,"  Jack  cried,  -'and 
please  tell  me  what  has  become  of  everybody. 
There  doesn't  seem  to  be  a  soul  around  the 
place  except  you." 

"I  was  told  to  stay  near  you,"  Carlos 
answered  obediently.  "Miss  Jean  said  they 
were  just  homesick  for  a  sight  of  the  ranch 
and  were  going  for  a  little  walk.  They  would 
be  back  before  you  could  miss  them,  for  the 
two  ladies  from  Rainbow  Lodge  are  coming 
to  see  you.  They  should  have  come  before 
so  long  a  time." 

"How  did  the  girls  and  Mr.  Kent  get  away 


246        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

without  my  knowing?"  Jack  demanded 
wrathfully. 

"By  the  trail  that  leads  from  the  back 
door/'  Carlos  returned  calmly,  and  then  as 
Jack  seemed  to  have  no  more  questions  to  ask, 
he  returned  to  playing  with  his  wolf  dog. 

Jack's  face  clouded  and  she  sighed  mourn 
fully. 

"How  beastly  selfish  of  everybody  to  leave 
me  alone!"  she  thought  angrily.  "Ruth  and 
Jim  would  be  awfully  cross  if  they  knew.  Of 
course  Mrs.  Harmon  and  Elizabeth  are  nice 
and  sympathetic,  but  I  don't  feel  as  though 
I  wanted  to  see  them  to-day.  Beth  isn't 
half  so  difficult  as  she  used  to  be  and  is  ever  so 
much  stronger,  but  she  will  talk  about  our 
accident  all  the  time  and  Mrs.  Harmon  looks 
like  she  wanted  to  cry  every  time  she  glances 
at  me.  Oh,  dear  me,  how  I  do  hate  to  be 
pitied — it  is  almost  the  hardest  thing  I  have 
to  bear!  I  wonder  if  I  ever  will  get  used  to 
it."  And  Jack  put  her  thin  hands,  from  which 
the  brown  strength  had  faded,  over  her 
flushed  cheeks.  "Anyhow,  I  am  glad  Jim 
has  promised  to  wait  a  little  longer  before  he 
sells  any  part  of  our  ranch  to  the  Harmons, 
though  he  says  Mr.  Harmon  has  offered  him 
more  money  if  we  will  make  up  our  minds  at 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  247 

once.  I  suppose  if  I  don't  get  a  lot  better 
pretty  soon  I  will  have  to  give  up  in  the  end 
and  let  Jim  sell,  since  everybody  wants  to 
except  me  and  I  know  they  want  to  do  it  on 
my  account." 

For  a  few  minutes  Jack  tried  to  find  solace 
in  the  pages  of  her  discarded  book,  but  she 
sighed  so  heavily  that  the  leaves  fluttered. 

"It's  the  dullest  thing  I  ever  read  in  my 
life/7  she  said  resentfully.  "How  I  hate 
stories  about  wooden  girls,  who  never  have 
adventures  or  excitement  in  their  lives,  but 
just  go  to  sewing  circles  and  nice  little  picnics, 
where  grown  people  preach  to  them  about 
feminine  ideals !  It's  like  that  tiresome  poem, 
'Be  good,  sweet  maid,  and  let  who  will  be 
clever/ — as  though  one  couldn't  be  good  and 
clever  too!  There  is  no  special  glory  in  being 
good  just  because  you  are  dull,  and  I  sha'n't 
be  any  longer,"  Jack  announced,  flinging  her 
book  against  the  wall  of  the  rancho  with  all 
the  force  she  could  muster. 

"What's  the  matter,  Jack?"  Frank  Kent 
asked,  suddenly  appearing  around  a  corner  of 
the  house.  "Do  you  wish  anything?" 

Jack  had  the  grace  to  laugh  at  herself, 
though  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  "No, 
there  is  nothing  really  the  matter,  Frank. 


248        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

I  am  not  in  pain  nor  anything  like  that/'  she 
answered, "  so  you  need  not  look  so  sympathetic. 
I  have  just  been  feeling  sorry  for  myself 
because  all  of  you  were  wicked  enough  to  take 
a  walk  about  the  dear  old  ranch  when  I  could 
not  go  with  you.  And  I  used  to  think  Eliza 
beth  Harmon  dreadfully  silly  when  she  was 
cross  or  complained.  You  see,  I  am  finding 
out  it  is  much  easier  to  preach  than  to  prac 
tice." 

"Why,  Jack,  you  didn't  think  we  would  be 
horrid  enough  to  desert  you,"  Frank  pro 
tested.  "It  is  rather  my  fault  that  you 
have  been  by  yourself  this  long.  Jean  and 
Olive  and  I  talked  things  over  and  thought  it 
would  be  all  right,  so  I  sent  them  off  for  a 
walk  with  Donald  Harmon  and  I  slipped  up 
to  the  Lodge  and  borrowed  Elizabeth's  cart. 
How  would  you  like  to  drive  down  to  Rainbow 
Creek  and  see  if  we  can  find  the  others?" 
Frank  suggested  casually,  as  though  his 
request  was  a  perfectly  ordinary  one. 

Jack  stared  at  him  in  amazement,  her  face 
radiant  with  pleasure,  and  then  she  shook 
her  head  nervously.  She  never  had  been 
farther  than  the  front  porch  since  her  arrival 
at  the  rancho  and  now  felt  afraid  to  make  the 
attempt. 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  249 

"I  don't  think  I  dare  try  it,  Frank/7  she 
returned  wearily. 

"All  right.  What  shall  we  do — read  or  play 
cards  or  just  talk?"  he  demanded  cheerfully. 

"Just  talk,"  Jack  answered.  "Isn't  it 
dreadful,  Frank,  but  I  have  never  liked  sitting- 
still  things  in  my  life,  reading  or  sewing  or 
quiet  games .  Maybe  my  being  sick  will  give 
me  a  chance  to  improve  my  mind,"  she  added 
more  courageously,  seeing  a  shadow  cross 
Frank's  face. 

At  this  moment  Elizabeth  Harmon's  low 
governess  cart  drawn  by  a  small  ranch  pony 
and  driven  by  Uncle  Zack  came  trotting  down 
the  road  which  led  from  the  Lodge  to  the 
rancho. 

"Come  along,  Jack,  do.  I'll  take  good  care 
of  you,"  Frank  urged.  "Uncle  Zack  and  I 
can  lift  you  in  the  cart  and  make  you  com 
fortable  and  it  will  do  you  lots  of  good  to 
see  the  old  creek  and  find  out  that  you  can 
get  about  the  ranch  even  in  this  poor  way." 

"You  are  awfully  good,  Frank,"  Jack  said 
gratefully,  sitting  up  straighter  than  usual, 
so  that  one  of  her  sofa  cushions  slid  out  on 
the  floor.  Uncle  Zack  had  stopped  the  pony 
in  front  of  the  porch,  gotten  out,  and  Carlos 
was  holding  it.  Jack  put  out  both  arms 


250        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

toward  Frank  and  Uncle  Zack  as  naturally  as 
a  child,  though  a  few  weeks  before  there  was 
nothing  she  felt  she  needed  anyone's  help  to 
do.  "Put  me  in  the  cart/7  she  begged  wistfully. 
"I  am  sure  it  won't  hurt  me  and  I'd  rather  see 
the  sun  glisten  like  gold  on  Rainbow  Creek 
than  any  other  sight  in  the  world." 

Frank  drove  slowly  across  a  bridge  that  had 
been  recently  built  over  Rainbow  Creek  and 
along  the  path  on  the  opposite  side,  where  the 
girls  used  so  often  to  ride.  The  sun  was 
shining  and  the  muddy  water  looked  to  Jack's 
adoring  and  homesick  eyes  like  a  stream  of 
pure  gold.  Carlos  sat  on  the  floor  of  the  c'art 
and  Jack  was  arranged  like  an  Indian  princess 
on  one  of  the  long  side  seats  with  her  shawls 
and  cushions  around  her. 

"Oh,  my  goodness!"  Jack  said  suddenly  and 
turned  so  white  that  Frank  reined  in  his 
pony  and  looked  almost  as  pale  as  his  com 
panion. 

"You  don't  feel  ill,  Jack,  please  say  you 
don't,"  he  begged  boyishly,  "or  Mr.  Colter 
and  Miss  Ruth  will  never  forgive  me  for 
running  off  with  you  like  this.  We  can  go 
right  back  home  now  if  you  like." 

Jack  shook  her  head,  smiling.  "Oh,  no, 
there  is  nothing  the  matter.  I  am  just 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  251 

beautifully  comfortable  and  happier  than  I 
have  been  in  a  long  time/'  she  insisted.  "But 
I  was  thinking  that  one  morning  Olive  and 
Jean  and  I  were  riding  along  here,  and  over 
by  the  big  rock  we  saw  the  fellow  called 
' Gypsy  Joe'  washing  some  stones  and  gravel 
in  the  creek.  There  was  nothing  so  remark 
able  in  his  performance,  but  the  thought  of 
him  reminded  me  of  the  fortune  his  mother 
told  me  the  day  before.  The  old  gypsy  did 
not  like  me  and  said  I  was  so  independent 
I  was  going  to  be  forced  to  depend  on  other 
people.  It  is  silly  of  me  to  think  she  could 
have  had  a  premonition  of  my  accident,  isn't 
it?  Have  you  seen  this  ' Gypsy  Joe'  around 
the  ranch  since  you  have  been  here,  Frank?" 
Jack  ended. 

"Yes,  twice.  I  believe  Mr.  Colter  intends  to 
look  him  up  to-day  and  make  him  clear  out. 
Suppose  we  rest  here  a  while.  Perhaps  the 
girb  may  come  along  this  way,"  Frank  replied. 

"Frank,  there  is  the  very  pan  ' Gypsy  Joe' 
used  when  he  was  hunting  for  gold  in  our 
creek,"  Jack  explained,  pointing  ahead.  "Do 
get  it  for  me.  It's  battered  and  ancient  enough 
to  look  as  though  it  belonged  to  the  iron  age 
and  I'd  like  to  see  it." 

Glad  to  see  Jack  taking  an  interest  in  littie 


RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

things  again,  Frank  Kent  hopped  obediently 
out  of  the  cart,  giving  the  reins  to  Carlos. 

"  Climb  into  the  rock  there  where  it  splits 
in  two  and  forms  a  ravine  and  see  if  it's  a 
golden  treasure  house,  as  the  story  books  say/' 
Jack  suggested  carelessly. 

Picking  up  the  old  pan,  the  young  man 
clambered  easily  into  the  open  ledge  of  rock 
and  got  down  on  his  knees  among  the  bits  of 
gravel  and  loose  earth.  The  sun  must  have 
been  shining  more  brilliantly  on  Rainbow 
Creek  to-day  than  it  ever  shone  on  the  rain 
bow  rocks  of  the  Yellowstone  Park,  for  Frank 
imagined  he  could  see  tiny  yellow  veins 
running  like  threads  through  the  big,  gray 
rock  and  grains  of  golden  dust  mixed  with  the 
sand  and  pebbles  in  the  crevices. 

Jack  laughed  as  she  saw  him  hammering 
off  small  pieces  of  the  rock  with  the  end  of 
his  pocket  knife.  "Got  the  gold  microbe 
too,  Frank?  Come  on,  don't  let's  wait  any 
longer,"  she  begged. 

Apparently  Frank  Kent,  who  was  a  cool, 
clear-headed  fellow,  lost  his  mind,  for  he 
paid  not  the  least  attention  to  his  companion, 
but  filled  his  pan  with  bits  of  stone,  sand  and 
gravel  from  the  big  rock  and  marched  to  the 
edge  of  the  creek.  Quietly  he  held  the  pan 


THERE  Is  GOLD  IN  RAINBOW  CREEK,  JACK 


FRANK  AND   JACK.  253 

on  a  level  with  the  surface  of  the  water  and 
let  it  gradually  sink  until  it  filled  with  water; 
then  he  lifted  it  out,  tipped  it  to  one  side  and,  > 
as  far  as  Jack  could  see  from  the  cart,  spilled 
all  the  water,  mud  and  sand,  so  carefully 
collected,  on  the  ground. 

"  Please  hurry,  Frank/'  Jack  called,  crossly 
this  time.  "I  am  getting  tired  and  want  to 
go  back  home." 

When  the  young  man  returned  to  her  he 
held  out  the  tin  pan  she  had  wished  for  a 
souvenir,  with  an  expression  so  unusual  that 
the  girl  stared  at  him. 

"What  is  it,  for  goodness'  sake,  Frank?" 
she  demanded  petulantly.  Then  even  her 
indifferent  eyes  beheld  small  particles  of  a 
yellow  metal  clinging  to  the  bottom  of  the 
old  tin  pan. 

" There  is  gold  in  Rainbow  Creek,  Jack!" 
Frank  remarked  with  the  quiet  self-control 
she  once  disliked  in  him.  "I  don't  know  how 
much,  of  course,  and  it  may  be  in  such  small 
quantities  that  it  will  amount  to  nothing. 
We  must  not  get  too  excited,  but  I  have  not 
been  studying  gold  mining  in  Colorado  all 
summer  without  learning  something  about 
it.  Let's  don't  say  anything  of  our  dis 
covery  just  yet.  I  will  take  you  home  now 


254        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

and  come  back  this  afternoon  to  see  what  I 
can  find  out.  If  Rainbow  Creek  is  bringing 
gold  down  from  the  mountains  back  of  it 
or  gathering  it  from  the  rocks  and  soil  along 
its  shores  you  may  be  able  to  do  some  placer 
mining  that  will  make  you  richer  than  your 
wildest  dreams. " 

The  two  young  people  hardly  dared  speak 
of  their  hopes  on  their  drive  to  the  rancho, 
and  Carlos  was  solemnly  sworn  to  secrecy. 
They  were  both  excited,  but  Frank  feared  he 
had  done  wrong  in  agitating  Jack  before  he 
was  sure  of  his  discovery,  and  Jack  dared  not 
trust  herself  to  think  of  what  the  finding  of 
gold  on  their  ranch  might  mean  in  its  effect 
on  their  future. 

As  soon  as  Jack  was  safe  at  home  with 
Olive,  Jean  and  Frieda,  Frank  disappeared. 
At  supper  time  he  had  not  come  back  to  the 
rancho;  the  evening  wore  on  until  it  was 
the  hour  for  the  invalid  to  be  put  to  bed, 
and  still  he  had  not  come.  Jack  was  feeling 
sure  that  Frank  had  made  a  mistake  and 
glad  they  had  kept  their  idea  to  themselves 
so  that  no  one  should  share  their  disappoint 
ment,  wThen  the  door  of  the  small  sitting  room 
at  the  rancho  opened  and  Frank  Kent  walked 
quietly  in.  His  first  glance  was  for  Jack,  and 


FRANK  AND  JACK. 

his  face  was  so  pale  and  serious  the  others 
feared  some  misfortune. 

The  living  room  of  the  rancho  was  an  odd 
place  and  yet  a  fitting  one  for  Frank's  dis 
closure.  The  room  was  small,  of  rough  pine 
boards,  with  bright  chromos  and  photographs 
of  famous  horses  tacked  on  its  walls.  The 
chairs  were  worn  and  the  other  odd  bits  of 
furniture  as  primitive  as  possible.  But  to 
night  a  bright  fire  glowed  in  the  big  fireplace. 
Jack  lay  on  an  old  leather  lounge  with  a  rose- 
colored  shawl  draped  over  her,  Jean  sat  at 
her  feet,  and  Frieda  and  Olive  were  on  sofa 
cushions  before  the  fire.  Jim  was  smoking 
comfortably  in  the  corner,  his  face  almost  in 
shadow,  yet  wearing  an  expression  of  happiness 
that  glowed  like  an  inner  radiance.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Ruth,  though  she  alone 
was  restless  to-night  and  kept  flitting  about  on 
unnecessary  errands,  with  her  cheeks  deeply 
flushed  from  her  long  day  out  of  doors. 

Frank  walked  directly  up  to  Jim  Colter. 

"Mr.  Colter/'  he  announced  without  wast 
ing  time,  "I  find  you  have  gold  on  the  Rain 
bow  Ranch.  I  have  been  examining  the  bed 
of  your  creek  all  afternoon  and  as  far  as  I 
can  tell  it  is  encrusted  with  fine  particles 
of  gold.  I  don't  want  you  to  trust  to  my 


256        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

judgment,  but  I  do  want  you  to  send  immedi 
ately  for  some  one  who  knows  more  of  placer 
mining  than  I  do,  for  I  believe  we  are  on  the 
verge  of  a  great  discovery." 

All  of  the  girls,  except  Jack,  laughed  and 
Ruth  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"The  thing  is  quite  impossible,  Frank!" 
Ruth  argued.  "I  don't  mean  to  doubt  your 
word,  but  Mr.  Colter  could  not  have  lived  on 
the  ranch  all  these  years  without  finding  out 
whether  there  \vas  gold  in  the  creek." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  could,  Ruth,"  Jim  answered 
slowly.  "I  told  you  I  didn't  know  a  chunk 
of  gold  from  a  lump  of  mud.  I — "  Jim  always 
talked  slowly,  but  to-night  it  seemed  as 
though  his  words  would  never  come — "I 
ain't  one  to  go  off  half  cocked  and  I'm  a 
pretty  hard  fellow  to  convince  of  good  luck, 
but  I  believe  what  Kent  has  found  out  is 
true.  I  have  been  puzzling  my  brains  ever 
since  we  come  home  to  know  why  this  man 
Harmon  is  so  anxious  to  buy  our  ranch  that 
he  will  give  almost  any  price  for  it  and  why 
he  has  had  Joe  Dawson  hanging  around  here 
all  summer.  Seems  like  I  kind'er  guess  now. 
Dawson  found  the  gold  lode  and  Harmon 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  business  to  buy 
the  ranch  and  take  his  chances  on  striking 


FRANK  AND  JACK.  257 

It  rich  before  we  got  on  to  things.  Girls, 
you've  got  to  take  Mr.  Kent's  advice  and  keep 
this  discovery  a  secret  until  we  find  out  for 
sure  if  there  is  enough  gold  on  the  ranch  for 
us  to  get  happy."  Jim  lowered  his  voice. 
"Who  can  we  send  for  to  investigate  for  us, 
whom  we  can  trust  with  our  secret?" 

"Ralph  Merrit,"  Jean  suggested. 

" Ralph  Merrit,  the  very  man!"  Jim  replied 
instantly.  "Who  would  have  thought  of 
your  having  so  much  practical  sense,  Jean? 
But  don't  get  excited  over  this  business,  for 
heaven's  sake,  don't  get  excited,"  he  repeated, 
charging  up  and  down  the  room  like  a  lion. 
"I  tell  you  all  is  not  gold  that  glitters  and 
there  is  many  a  slip  between " 

"The  creek  and  the  lip,  Jim,"  Jean  ended 
roguishly,  and  everybody  laughed  and  went 
away  to  dream;  Ruth  and  Jim  of  something 
even  more  important  than  the  discovery  of  a 
gold  mine. 


17 


CHAPTER  XXI 
"MY  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE  " 

FOR  Ruth  and  Jim  Colter  had  spent  a 
wonderful  day  together  while  Jack 
and  Frank  Kent  were  making  their 
great  discovery.  They  were  finding  another 
of  the  world's  great  treasures  which  is  not 
gold.  Side  by  side  they  had  ridden  slowly 
over  the  ranch  with  its  waving  fields  of 
ripened  grass  and  its  horses,  sheep  and  cattle, 
sleek  and  fat  and  well  content  with  the  earth's 
bounty.  They  had  counted  the  herds  and 
inspected  the  sheep  corrals,  ordering  new  ones 
to  be  built  before  the  coming  of  winter;  they 
had  discussed  whether  Ruth  alone  would  be 
able  to  take  Jack  to  New  York  to  see  the 
famous  surgeon  recommended  by  Peter  Drum- 
mond  j  and  they  had  decided  that  Mr.  Harmon 
must  be  given  an  answer  in  regard  to  his 
purchase  of  a  portion  of  Rainbow  Ranch 
within  the  next  few  days.  His  lease  on  the 
Lodge  would  end  in  a  short  time  and  already 
he  seemed  very  restless  and  was  insisting 

(£58) 


"MY  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE."  259 

that  urgent  business  called  him  back  to 
New  York. 

Ruth  was  now  able  to  ride  horseback  almost 
as  well  as  the  other  ranch  girls,  although  she 
could  never  be  quite  so  fearless,  since  her 
training  had  come  later  in  life.  But  to-day 
she  and  her  companion  laughingly  recalled 
her  famous  arrival  at  Wolfville  not  a  year 
before  and  her  terrible  ten-mile  ride  home  to 
Rainbow  Lodge.  Ruth  remembered  then — 
though  she  did  not  speak  of  it — how  Jim's 
strength  had  upheld  and  comforted  her  and 
brought  her  safely  to  her  new  home. 

At  noon,  hungry  and  happy,  Jim  and  Ruth 
had  eaten  their  luncheon  seated  opposite 
each  other  on  the  grass  with  two  napkins 
spread  between  them,  drinking  their  cold 
coffee  out  of  bottles,  like  a  couple  of  school 
children  on  a  picnic. 

Now  it  was  almost  sunset  and  the  man  and 
woman  were  riding  slowly  home.  Their 
backs  were  to  the  far-off  line  of  hills,  and 
beyond  them  the  level  prairies  seemed  to 
stretch  on  and  on  until  they  dipped  and 
melted  away  at  the  uttermost  rim  of  the 
earth.  Above,  the  clouds  floated,  tinted 
like  soap  bubbles  against  a  skyey  background 
of  pale  rose  and  blue,  for  the  sun  was  sinking 


260        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

without  a  display  of  gaudy  colors  upon  the 
horizon,  that  marked  this  waning  season  of 
the  year. 

Ruth  was  gazing  at  the  sunset,  wondering 
if  Jack  were  not  a  little  better,  when  a  low 
laugh  from  her  companion  surprised  her  and 
jarred  on  her  peaceful  mood.  She  turned 
on  him  reproachfully,  but  found  nothing  in 
Jim  Colter's  expression  that  spoke  of  laughter. 
His  strong  bronze  face  was  so  serious  and 
his  lips  so  grave  that  the  girl  with  him  was 
suddenly  still  and  frightened.  For  many  weeks 
she  had  thought  this  moment  might  be 
approaching,  and  yet,  now  it  had  come,  she 
was  wholly  unprepared. 

"I  was  only  thinking  of  how  young  you 
look  in  that  riding  habit,  Miss  Ruth/'  Jim 
said  simply.  "I  laughed  because  I  remem 
bered  I  thought  you  would  be  an  old  maid  of 
fifty  when  you  first  came  out  to  the  ranch. 
Sometimes  it  seems  years  since  the  day  you 
arrived,  and  then  again  only  a  few  weeks. 
Are  you  sure  you  like  living  on  a  ranch  now? 
You  know  you  plumb  hated  it  when  you  first 
came  to  Wyoming,"  he  said  boyishly. 

Ruth  smiled  and  nodded,  wondering  if  she 
were  relieved  or  disappointed.  One  could 
always  count  on  Jim's  not  doing  or  saying  the 


"MY  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE."  261 

thing  expected  of  him.  After  all,  the  moment 
she  anticipated  was  not  at  hand. 

"Of  course  I  dearly  love  living  on  the 
ranch,  Mr.  Jinx.  But  why  do  you  ask  me?" 
she  answered. 

"  Because  I  love  you,  Ruth,"  Jim  returned 
as  quietly  as  though  he  had  not  been  trying 
to  speak  the  three  magic  words  for  months. 
"And  I  am  a  ranchman  and  don't  know 
anything  else.  I  don't  understand  a  whole 
lot  about  women,  but  I  believe  they  ought 
to  like  the  kind  of  life  a  man  has  to  offer 
before  they  tie  up  with  him.  If  you  hadn't 
come  to  like  living  out  here  I  never  would 
have  told  you  I  loved  you,  though  it  had 
eaten  my  heart  out  to  keep  silent.  But  you 
do  care  for  the  life  now,  Ruth,  and — do  you 
think  you  can  care  for  me?" 

The  two  horses  were  walking  slowly  side 
by  side,  and  Jim  put  out  a  big  warm  hand 
and  closed  it  slowly  over  Ruth's  small  cold 
ones  whjch  still  held  her  reins.  "I  am 
only  an  overseer,  and  haven't  much  money 
or  education  to  offer  you,  and  I  know  how 
much  these  thjngs  count,  but  I  will  do  my 
best  for  you  and  I  do  come  of  good  people, 
dear,  and  it  wasn't  their  fault  I  never  learned 
more '  Jim  added  at  last,  hesitating  as 


264         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

understand  that  this  trinity  of  simple  emotions 
meant  the  big  human  mystery  of  love. 

"Of  course  you  may  have  all  the  time 
you  need,  Ruth/'  Jim  replied,  not  showing 
his  disappointment.  "You  may  have  all 
my  life  if  it  takes  you  that  long  to  find  out. 
But  it  would  be  easier  for  us  both  if  you 
decide  this  week.  'Tain't  fair  for  a  man  to 
expect  a  woman  to  say  her  yes  or  no  right 
off  at  the  first  asking.  He  has  had  all  the 
time  beforehand  to  decide  that  he  wants 
her  to  be  his  wife,  but  she  ain't  supposed  to 
think  of  him  as  a  husband  until  he  has  said 
the  word.  At  least,  that  is  the  kind  of 
woman  you  are,  Ruth,  and  there  are  plenty 
like  you.  I  suppose,  though,  there  are  some 
that  do  a  little  previous  deciding  before  the 
male  has  got  right  down  to  the  point."  Jim 
was  patting  Ruth's  hands  softly,  his  eyes  full 
of  a  new  content  and  his  face  of  strength 
and  dignity.  Not  having  a  New  England 
conscience  he  did  not  feel  it  necessary  to 
worry,  because  he  could  see  Ruth  cared,  and 
he  was  willing  to  wait  for  the  rest. 

They  were  not  talking,  so  the  sound  of  two 
voices  startled  them.  Through  a  small 
clump  of  evergreen  trees,  not  far  from  the 
trail  along  which  they  were  riding,  the  smoke 


"MY  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE."  265 

of  a  camp-fire  rose  in  slow  circles.  A  young 
woman  was  seated  on  the  ground  nursing  a 
baby,  and  a  man  and  old  gypsy  woman  were 
scolding  at  each  other. 

"  It's  that  fellow,  Joe  Dawson.  I  have  been 
having  an  eye  open  for  him  all  day,"  Jim 
announced  curtly,  with  the  sudden  sternness 
in  his  face  and  manner  that  made  him  feared 
even  by  the  people  who  knew  him  most 
intimately.  "I  have  been  wanting  to  tell 
him  to  clear  off  this  ranch.  No  matter  what 
business  Harmon  has  with  him,  he  sha'n't 
stay  about  here,  now  you  and  the  girls  have 
come  home." 

Jim  was  riding  over  toward  the  gypsies, 
but  Joe  had  seen  him  and  come  forward. 

"Good  evening,"  he  remarked.  -"Pleasant 
evening  for  a  ride." 

Jim  frowned  and  wasted  no  words. 

"Glad  I  came  across  you,  Dawson,"  he 
returned.  "I  want  you  to  get  off  this  ranch. 
I'll  give  you  two  days  if  it  takes  that  much 
time,  but  no  longer.  I  told  you  I  wasn't 
going  to  have  you  hanging  about  here  in  the 
early  part  of  the  summer,  but  I  presume  you 
have  been  doing  some  work  for  Mr.  Harmon, 
though  I  never  heard  of  your  doing  any 
honest  work  in  your  life." 


266        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

"Oh,  no,  I  haven't  reformed  to  the  extent 
of  some  people,"  Gypsy  Joe  remarked  sar 
castically.  "At  least  I  haven't  yet  taken 
to  playing  the  part  of  'gardeen'  to  a  parcel 
of  young  girls.  But  look  here,  John,  I  can 
get  ugly  same  as  other  folks,  and  it  ain't  any 
the  less  true  for  being  an  old  saying,  'you 
had  better  let  sleeping  dogs  lie/  I  can  wake 
up  and  bite ;  and  I've  an  idea  where  it  would 
hurt  you  the  most." 

Ruth  was  walking  her  horse  up  and  down 
not  far  away,  trying  not  to  hear  what  the 
two  men  were  saying,  but  they  were  so  angry 
that  their  voices  carried  for  some  distance 
on  the  quiet  evening  air. 

"Get  off  the  Rainbow  Ranch,  Joe  Dawson, 
or  you  will  be  put  off,"  Jim  replied  roughly, 
and  turned  and  rode  back  to  Ruth. 

The  man  laughed  insolently.  "Not  if 
I  don't  choose  to  leave,  John  Carter,"  he 
halloed.  "You've  made  the  mistake  of  your 
life  in  not  making  friends  with  me  again,  for 
I  can  get  even  with  you  in  more  ways  than 
one,  and  I  don't  know  but  that  I'll  try." 

These  were  the  words  Ruth  thought  she 
heard,  but  she  gave  them  little  heed  beyond 
wondering  idly  why  the  impudent  tramp 
called  Jim  by  the  wrong  name. 


"MY  WAY'S  FOR  LOVE."  267 

These  events  in  the  lives  of  Ruth  Drew 
and  Jim  Colter  took  place  on  the  same  day 
that  Jack  and  Frank  Kent  had  their  experi 
ence  by  the  waters  of  Rainbow  Creek.  They 
had  been  at  home  several  hours  when  Frank 
Kent  appeared  to  disclose  the  startling  news 
of  the  discovery  of  gold  deposits  on  the  ranch. 
It  was  not  until  then  that  Jim  Colter  guessed 
why  Mr.  Harmon  had  wished  to  purchase  all 
or  a  portion  of  the  Rainbow  Ranch  before 
its  owners  could  find  out  the  secret  of  their 
hidden  wealth,  and  for  this 'same  reason  had 
kept  the  first  discoverer  of  the  gold,  "  Gypsy 
Joe, "  lurking  about  the  ranch  all  summer  and 
had  refused  to  give  up  the  Lodge  to  the  Rals 
ton  girls  and  let  them  come  home  when  they 
wished. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A   PARTY   AT   THE   RANCHO 

RALPH  MERRIT  arrived  in  two  days  at 
the  Rainbow  Ranch  $  and  he,  Frank 
and  Jim  worked  continuously  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  muddy  creek.  Soon  there  was 
little  doubt  of  the  wonderful  value  of  the 
diggings,  for  the  miners,  even  with  primitive 
methods  of  gold  washing,  found  lumps  of  pure 
gold  varying  in  size  from  a  pea  to  a  marble. 
Jim  was  distracted.  News  of  the  find  began 
to  spread  about  the  neighborhood  and  the 
ranch  to  be  crowded  with  curiosity  seekers  of 
every  kind,  miners  looking  for  jobs,  tramps 
and  ne'er-do-weels,  besides  kind  and  officious 
neighbors.  Sternly  as  the  ranch  girls  were 
ordered  to  remain  in  the  house,  Jean  and 
Olive  and  Frieda  had  ways  of  stealing  down 
to  the  creek  on  remarkably  plausible  errands; 
a  message  for  Jim  from  Ruth,  an  inquiry  from 
Jack  to  Frank  Kent  as  to  how  things  were 
going,  and  if  Jean  appeared  with  a  pot  of  hot 
coffee  for  the  workmen,  she  used  to  manage 

(268) 


A  PARTY  AT  THE  RANCHO.  269 

to  find  Ralph  and  sit  and  talk  to  him,  until 
Jim  scolded  and  made  her  go  back  to  the 
ranch  house. 

It  was  pretty  hard  on  Jack,  who  would 
have  been  the  leading  spirit  in  everything,  to 
remain  all  day  on  the  little  porch  without 
stirring,  but  Ruth  rarely  left  her  and  there 
was  a  new  bond  of  sympathy  between  them. 
Jack  had  guessed  that  her  old  and  dearest 
friend  had  asked  their  chaperon  to  marry  him 
and  that  Ruth  was  waiting  to  come  to  a 
decision,  but  Jack  felt  little  doubt  of  her 
answer.  Most  of  the  time  Jim  Colter  was 
obliged  to  be  away  from  home — there  was 
never  a  chance  for  a  quiet  moment  with 
Ruth — machinery  had  to  be  ordered  for  the 
new  mine,  legal  formalities  to  be  gone  through 
with.  But  just  once  Jim  spared  an  hour  for 
an  interview  with  Mr.  Harmon;  and  in  a 
short  time  afterwards  the  New  York  financier 
announced  to  his  family  that  they  would 
leave  Rainbow  Lodge  within  the  next  few 
days.  Fortunately  Joe  Dawson  had  dis 
appeared  and  Jim  was  spared  this  additional 
annoyance. 

Early  one  morning  Ruth  came  down  late 
to  breakfast  at  the  rancho  to  find  a  note 
from  Jim  saying  he  had  been  called  away  for 


270        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

the  day  and  asking  her  to  wait  up  for  him 
until  he  got  back  that  night. 

Ralph  Merrit  and  Frank  Kent  had  finished 
eating  and  were  deep  in  the  consideration  of 
the  newest  and  most  approved  methods  of 
placer  mining.  A  hydraulic  monitor  was  to 
be  set  up  and  Rainbow  Creek  dammed  so  that 
the  water  could  be  piped  to  the  workings. 
Already  negotiations  had  been  started  with 
a  neighbor  for  a  part  of  his  water  supply,  so 
that  the  cattle  business  of  the  ranch  need 
not  be  given  up. 

For  the  moment  Jean,  Olive  and  Frieda 
were  listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  boys. 
It  was  most  unusual,  for  the  greater  part  of 
their  time  was  now  devoted  to  an  endless 
discussion  of  what  they  would  do  when  they 
were  rich.  But  the  ranch  girls'  idea  of 
wealth  was  limited.  Jean,  who  had  the  most 
gifted  imagination  of  the  four,  had  only  con 
ceived  of  a  fortune  of  about  ten  thousand 
dollars. 

"  How's  Jack,  Ruth?7'  Jean  inquired,  as 
soon  as  their  chaperon  entered  the  breakfast 
room.  "You  are  so  late  I  feel  kind  of 
worried." 

"Jack's  all  right,"  Ruth  answered. 

"Then  tell  her  we  are  awfully  sorry  to 


A  PARTY  AT  THE  EANCHO.  271 

leave  her  again  to-day,  but  some  of  the  new 
machinery  has  just  arrived,  and  Frank  and 
Ralph  have  promised  to  explain  it  to  us.  We 
won't  be  back  until  after  lunch/'  Jean  ended. 

Ruth  frowned.  "Jack  is  pretty  tired  of 
just  my  society/'  she  said.  "You  girls  are 
away  nearly  all  of  the  time.  Don't  you  think 
we  could  think  of  something  to  amuse  her? 
Everybody  else  is  out 'of  doors  from  breakfast 
till  dinner  and  too  tired  at  night  to  talk." 

Jean  flushed  and  Olive's  eyes  filled  with 
tears. 

"I'll  not  leave  the  house,  Ruth,"  Olive 
replied.  "I  have  been  so  excited  lately  it 
has  never  dawned  on  me  that  I  was  neglecting 
Jack.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  have  been  so 
selfish!" 

"I  wish  I  could  stay  too,  Miss  Ruth," 
Frank  Kent  added;  "but  with  Mr.  Colter 
away  I  can't  leave  Merrit  to  shoulder  the 
whole  work." 

"The  Harmons  are  coming  down  to  the 
rancho  some  time  to-day  to  say  good-by 
to  Jack;  you  know  they  are  leaving  for  New 
York  in  the  morning,"  Jean  interposed,  feeling 
conscience-smitten,  but  anxious  to  escape  a 
scolding. 

All  this  time  Frieda  had  been  silent,  but 


KANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

now  she  clapped  her  hands  together  so 
suddenly  that  she  made  everybody  in  the 
room  start.  "I  have  a  perfectly  lovely  idea/' 
she  announced.  "Let's  give  Jack  a  surprise 
party.  We  need  not  ask  any  outside  people 
except  the  Harmons,  for  poor  Jack  can't  dance 
or  play  many  games  any  more,  but  she  will 
like  the  surprise,  I  know." 

Ruth  leaned  over  and  kissed  Frieda,  and 
there  was  a  moment  of  silence.  The  girls 
were  thinking  that  money  would  mean  very 
little  to  any  one  of  them  if  Jack  did  not  regain 
her  strength. 

"It's  a  beautiful  plan,  Frieda,"  Jean 
answered  at  last,  with  hot  cheeks.  "We  will 
stay  at  home  to-day  and  decorate  the  rancho 
so  no  one  will  know  it  to-raght.  I  suppose  it 
will  be  nice  to  have  a  farewell  party  for  the 
Harmons.  We  ought  not  to  show  that  we 
have  any  feeling  against  them,  but  it  is  pretty 
hard,"  she  concluded. 

"Jack  does  not  believe  that  Elizabeth  or 
Donald  or  Mrs.  Harmon  knew  why  Mr. 
Harmon  wanted  to  buy  our  ranch,"  Ruth 
interposed. 

"Donald  Harmon  knew,"  Olive  interrupted 
quietly,  but  no  one  could  persuade  her  to 
say  how  she  had  found  this  out. 


A  PARTY  AT  THE  RANCHO.  273 

By  half-past  seven  the  front  of  the  rancho 
was  hung  with  Japanese  lanterns.  On  the 
old  divan  in  the  sitting  room  Jack  was  en 
throned  like  an  Oriental  princess,  with  her 
blue  crepe  shawl  draped  over  a  blue  muslin 
gown  and  a  wreath  of  red  roses  in  her  coronet 
of  gold  hair. 

Peter  Drummond  had  at  last  returned  to 
his  home  in  New  York  without  paying  a  visit 
to  the  ranch,  but  never  a  week  passed  that 
he  did  not  send  a  large  box  of  red  roses  to 
Jack  with  a  letter  urging  her  to  hurry  to 
New  York. 

The  girls  had  decided  to  have  a  fancy 
dress  party,  and,  as  there  was  no  time  for 
preparation,  their  costumes  were  an  odd 
assortment  of  all  the  odds  and  ends  they  could 
find.  Early  in  the  day?  when  Jack  guessed 
that  something  unusual  was  to  take  place, 
Ruth  decided  that  she  would  enjoy  the 
preparations  more  than  the  surprise.  So  it 
was  she  who  helped  dress  Olive,  who  never 
looked  so  lovely  in  her  life.  Quite  by  acci 
dent  her  odd  costume  exactly  suited  her. 
She  wore  a  simple  white  dress,  with  a  short 
jacket  of  gold  embroidery,  and  a  round,  gold- 
embroidered  cap  on  her  loose  black  hair* 
and  around  her  throat  on  a  chain  the  silver 

18 


274         RANCH  GIRLS*  POT  OF  GOLD. 

cross  which  she  had  found  in  the  sandalwood 
box  hidden  by  old  Laska. 

Jean  and  Frieda  in  kimonos,  with  sashes 
about  their  waists,  were  Japanese  geisha  girls, 
and  found  their  costumes  excessively  incon 
venient  in  their  efforts  to  help  Ralph  Merrit 
freeze  the  ice  cream  in  the  back  yard. 

Olive  and  Jack  were  waiting  for  the  party 
to  begin ;  when  Elizabeth  Harmon  arrived 
early  to  say  good-by  to  Jack  alone  $  and  Olive 
stole  out  on  the  porch  of  the  rancho  to 
wait. 

Frank  Kent,  in  his  evening  clothes,  coming 
from  his  tent  across  the  fields  on  his  way  into 
the  house,  spied  Olive.  Suddenly  he  remem 
bered  the  frightened,  ignorant  girl  who  had 
sought  shelter  at  the  Rainbow  Ranch  less 
than  a  year  before,  and  marveled  at  the 
change.  He  stopped  for  a  moment,1  and  in 
the  stiff  English  fashion,  which  no  amount  of 
American  experience  would  make  him  lose, 
said  admiringly:  "I  say,  Miss  Olive,  you  are 
looking  awfully  pretty  to-night.  I  want  to 
tell  you  how  glad  I  am  that  you  have  never 
had  any  more  trouble  from  the  Indian  woman 
and  that  things  are  now  so  jolly  for  you/' 
and  then  he  passed  on  indoors  to  find  Jack. 

Ten  minutes  later  Donald  and  Mrs.  Harmon 


A  PARTY  AT  THE  RANCHO.          275 

found  Olive  still  on  the  porch  ready  to 
receive  them.  Mrs.  Harmon  took  Olive's 
hand  and  then  dropped  it  and  stared  at 
her  curiously.  The  image  of  a  half-forgotten 
face  came  back  to  her;  somewhere  in  her  past 
had  she  not  seen  a  girl  who  looked  like  this 
Olive  Ralston?  Yet  when  and  where  had 
she  seen  her? 

"Olive,"  Mrs.  Harmon  questioned,  for  a 
moment  losing  her  reserve  and  caution,  "have 
you  any  Spanish  or  Italian  ancestors?  I 
have  no  right  to  be  curious  about  you,  but 
you  are  so  unlike  the  other  ranch  girls ^  and 
I  remember  Jack  said  you  were  only  an 
adopted  sister." 

Olive  shook  her  head;  but  she  looked 
straight  at  the  older  woman  and  there  was 
something  in  her  timid,  appealing  gaze  that 
gave  another  pull  to  the  chords  of  memory. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  my  people, 
Mrs.  Harmon,"  Olive  answered  with  quiet 
dignity.  "Since  you  seem  interested  to 
know,  I  was  brought  up  by  an  old  Indian 
woman  and  her  son,  until  Jack  and  the  other 
girls  found  me  and  brought  me  home  to  live 
with  them.  I  don't  even  know  my  own 


name." 


A  hundred  questions  came  to  Mrs.  Har- 


276         RANCH   GIRLS'   POT  OF  GOLD. 

mon's  mind  and  almost  forced  themselves  from 
her  lips,  but  she  was  resolutely  silent.  Why 
should  she  care  to  know  more  of  this  stray 
girl's  past  history;  what  could  it  mean  to 
her?  If  she  knew  nothing  she  could  always 
assure  herself  that  the  suspicion  that  had 
just  crossed  her  mind  was  an  absurdity. 
Without  another  word,  followed  by  Olive 
and  Donald,  they  entered  the  rancho. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  party  was  going  success 
fully.  But  Ruth  found  her  interest  waning; 
it  seemed  almost  time  for  Jim  to  come 
home. 

She  must  see  him  alone  to  tell  him  that  life 
was  worth  while  to  her  now  only  because 
of  his  love.  Jim  was  not  like  other  men,  he 
was  better  and  braver  and  stronger;  the 
woman  who  loved  him  believed  she  trusted 
him  utterly. 

It  was  a  clear,  starlit  night  without  a 
moon.  Silently  Ruth  slipped  away  from  the 
familiar  company,  and  wrapping  a  white 
shawl  around  her,  stole  from  the  house  along 
the  trail. 

A  man  came  down  the  path  toward  her  and 
she  ran  forward  with  hands  outstretched  to 
meet  him.  Then  she  stopped  short,  her 
heart  fluttering  and  her  knees  trembling. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


"  THEIR   LAST   RIDE   TOGETHER " 


GOOD  evening,  Miss  Drew,"  some  one 
said  politely. 
Ruth  drew  in  her  breath.     "Good 
evening/'  she  returned  coldly. 

"Kind  of  surprised  to  see  me?"  "Gypsy 
Joe"  inquired.  "You  have  been  having  great 
goings  on  about  the  ranch  lately.  I  could 
have  told  you  about  your  gold  mine  in  the 
early  part  of  the  summer,  but  I  knew  this 
man  Harmon  would  give  me  a  better  show 
than  your  overseer  if  I  put  him  on  to  my 
discovery  and  he  got  your  ranch  away  from 
you." 

Ruth  turned  irresolutely  and  then  faced 
the  man  again.  "Please  don't  talk  to  me  of 
your  dishonesty,"  she  protested,  "and  do 
get  off  the  ranch  right  away.  You  know 
what  Mr.  Colter  told  you."  Ruth  had  a 
frightened  vision  of  Jim's  returning  to  find 
this  tramp  lurking  about  the  rancho,  and 
knew  she  would  have  small  chance  for  a 

(277) 


278         RANCH   GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

quiet  evening  with  her  lover  after  such  a 
catastrophe. 

"Look  here,  Miss  Drew,  don't  you  think 
you  might  speak  a  good  word  to  your  overseer 
and  the  young  ladies  for  me?"  Dawson 
whined.  "Seems  like  it  isn't  fair  for  me  to 
have  been  the  first  to  discover  that  gold  mine 
and  not  to  have  any  share  in  it." 

Ruth  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "We  really 
can't  help  that.  If  you  had  told  Mr.  Colter 
of  it  first  I  am  sure  he  would  have  been  fair 
with  you.  Surely  it  is  not  our  fault  that 
you  have  cheated  yourself  in  trying  to  cheat 
us.  I  really  don't  see  how  we  owe  you 
anything!" 

"Jim  Colter,  as  he  calls  himself,  owes  me  a 
whole  lot.  Say,  I'm  hard  up.  Do  you  think 
you  could  get  Colter  to  give  me  a  job  as  a 
miner?"  "Gypsy  Joe"  urged.  "They  say  the 
men  are  making  a  pretty  good  thing  out  of 
that." 

Slowly  Ruth  shook  her  head,  knowing  that 
Jim,  who  was  the  most  gentle  of  men  and  the 
most  yielding  in  little  things,  was  like  adamant 
once  his  mind  was  made  up. 

"I  don't  know  what  there  is  between  you 
and  Mr.  Colter,"  Ruth  answered  hurriedly, 
"but  I'm  sure  I  could  not  make  him  change 


"THEIR  LAST  RIDE  TOGETHER."     279 

his  opinion  of  you  even  if  I  wished  to  try. 
Do,  do  go  away  from  here." 

"I  won't,"  the  man  replied.  "You've 
got  to  hear  something  first."  Ruth  made  a 
movement,  but  he  caught  at  her  skirts.  "I'm 
all-fired  tired  of  this  man  Colter's  being  so 
hard  on  me  and  having  all  the  people  around 
here  treat  him  like  a  tin  god.  I  am  not  living 
under  an  assumed  name  and  he  is.  I  have 
never  done  anything  to  make  me  proud  of 
being  called  Joe  Dawson,  but  I  don't  have  to 
hide  it.  Colter!"  Joe  Dawson  laughed. 
"Your  friend  is  no  more  named  Colter  than 
I  am.  His  name  is  Carter,  John  Carter,  and 
he  hails  from  Virginia  the  same  as  I  do. 
Colter  was  a  pretty  good  name  to  select  when 
he  came  west,  since  a  man  named  Colter 
happened  to  be  one  of  the  first  settlers  in 
Wyoming." 

"Be  quiet  and  let  me  go,  Mr.  Dawson!" 
Ruth  commanded,  white  with  anger.  "Of 
course  you  understand  I  don't  believe  a  word 
you  have  said,  but  you  sha'n't  force  me  to 
listen  to  your  slander."  j 

"Oh,  don't  take  my  word  for  it,"  Dawson 
sneered.  "Ask  Carter  if  he  didn't  run  away 
from  home  because  he  stole  a  lot  of  money 
and  broke  his  mother's  and  father's  hearts. 


280        RANCH  GIRLS'  TOT  OF  GOLD. 

The  Carters  are  a  proud  lot  and  not  forgiving, 
and  I  expect  they  weren't  sorry  to  have  him 
change  his  name  to  Colter.  He  and  I  were 
school-fellows  together,  and  we  have  never 
been  friendly." 

The  man  let  go  of  her  skirts,  and  Ruth  ran 
back  toward  the  rancho  while  he  walked  off 
in  the  other  direction.  There  could  not  be  a 
word  of  truth  in  what  he  had  told  her,  yet 
the  girl  felt  sick  and  trembling  and  dared  not 
go  in  where  her  friends  could  see  her.  Crying 
softly,  Ruth  dropped  down  in  the  grass  by 
the  side  of  the  road.  Suddenly  it  occurred  to 
her  that  Jim  had  never  told  her  one  word  of 
his  past  history  and  that  the  ranch  girls  knew 
nothing  of  him  before  his  coming  to  Wyoming; 
yet  she  had  confided  every  detail  of  her  own 
narrow  story  to  him,  her  school  days  in 
Vermont  and  the  teaching  afterward,  and 
then  there  was  nothing  else  until  she  came  out 
west  to  him. 

A  horse  trotted  along  the  road  and  shied 
at  the  white  figure  in  the  grass. 

"Ruth,  is  anything  the  matter?"  Jim 
asked  in  astonishment,  recognizing  her  at 
once. 

"Nothing,  only  I  was  waiting  for  you/' 
Ruth  answered. 


"THEIR  LAST  RIDE  TOGETHER."    281 

Jim  had  ridden  close  up  to  her. '  Now  he 
leaned  down  from  his  horse  and  lifted  her  up 
in  the  saddle  with  him.  "  Let's  don't  go  in 
to  the  house  now,  Ruth/'  he  whispered. 
"I  want  to  ride  with  you,  alone." 

Ruth  did  not  have  to  speak,  for  she  yielded 
herself  utterly  to  Jim's  strength  and  tender 
ness.  With  a  touch  to  his  horse  the  man 
and  woman  rode  on,  feeling  the  night  wind  of 
the  prairies  with  its  thousand  fragrances  blow 
over  them;  seeing  the  sky  with  its  ten 
million  stars  above  them  and  the  great  wide 
sweep  of  the  open  country  beneath. 

"It  has  been  more  than  a  week,  Ruth,  and 
I  am  weary  of  waiting,"  Jim  said,  when  his 
horse  grew  tired  and  they  were  moving 
toward  home. 

She  turned  her  face  toward  him,  flushed 
now  with  the  joy  of  the  night  and  the  stars 
and  the  new  love  that  enthralled  her.  "You 
know  I  love  you,  Jim,"  she  murmured  caress 
ingly,  "and  I  would  rather  be  your  wife  than 
any  man's  in  the  world." 

After  this  there  did  not  seem  to  be  need  for 
speech;  but  the  man  walked  his  horse  slowly, 
hoping  that  it  might  take  forever  before  they 
reached  home. 

Then   Ruth   said   carelessly,    because    the 


282        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

tramp's  story  had  passed  out  of  her  thoughts 
until  this  moment:  " Jim,  don't  be  angry — I 
didn't  want  to  listen,  but  you  must  make  that 
fellow,  Joe  Dawson,  stop  telling  dreadful 
stories  about  you.  Why,  I  met  him  to-night 
and  he  told  me  such  absurd  things.  He  said 


Suddenly  the  man's  arm  stiffened  about  the 
woman  he  loved.  "He  said  what,  Ruth?" 
Jim  Colter  inquired  with  a  new  note  in  his 
voice. 

Ruth  laughed  nervously  and  clung  more 
closely  to  him,  as  though  she  feared  to  slip 
from  her  seat.  "Just  that  your  name  was 
John  Carter  and  not  Jim  Colter.  Please 
don't  make  me  tell  you  any  more  of  his 
stories,"  she  begged. 

"I  would  like  to  hear  all,  Ruth;  it  will  be 
better  for  us  in  the  end,"  Jim  insisted. 

"But  I'm  ashamed,"  the  girl  argued, 
"because  it  is  so  utterly  unlike  you  or  anything 
you  could  do.  You  know,  I  believe  you  are 
the  soul  of  honor,  Jim,  yet  this  man  said  you 
had  stolen  money  when  you  were  a  young 
man,  and  run  away  from  home  to  hide." 

"The  man  told  you  the  truth,  Ruth,"  Jim 
Colter  answered.  "  Don't  be  frightened.  I  have 
done  wrong,  for  I  should  have  told  you  before. 


"THEIR  LAST  RIDE  .TOGETHER."    283 

My  name  is  John  Carter  under  the  law,  though 
I  have  borne  the  name  of  Jim  Colter  for  four 
teen  years  and  it  seems  far  more  like  my  own 
name  than  the  other,  for  I  have  learned  to 
be  a  man  under  it." 

Ruth  drew  herself  away,  clinging  to  the 
horse's  mane,  her  body  rigid  and  her  tears 
dry. 

"You  mean  you  have  been  deceiving  me 
and  have  asked  me  to  marry  you  without 
my  knowing  your  real  name?"  she  asked,  all 
her  fear  and  suspicion  of  men  returning. 
If  Jack  had  once  hated  what  she  called 
"Ruth's  schoolmarm  manner,"  Jim  Colter 
was  now  to  know  her  in  the  light  of  an 
upright  judge. 

"Of  course  I  meant  to  tell  you  my  story 
some  day,  Ruth,"  he  replied  almost  toe) 
humbly.  "I  thought  things  over  a  long  time1 
and  I  didn't  see  how  I  was  doing  you  any 
harm  to  keep  my  old  name  and  past  a  secret 
from  you  until  you  learned  to  love  me. 
Maybe  I  was  mistaken,  but  I  didn't  want 
you  to  love  the  man  I  used  to  be,  I 
wanted  you  to  love  the  man  I  am  now.  I 
could  see  that  you  were  growing  more  under 
standing  every  day  about  little  things,  and 
not  so  hard  and  narrow,  and  I  thought  maybe 


284         RANCH   GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

if  you  loved  me  you'd  be  able  to  forgive 
something  that  happened  so  many  years  ago 
it  seems  almost  like  a  bad  dream. " 

"I  never  could  marry  anyone  who  deceived 
me,"  the  girl  returned  frigidly. 

"I  wasn't  deceiving  you,  I  was  just  waiting 
to  tell  you.  Maybe  you  will  listen  to  the 
story  now?"  Jim  asked.  "It  won't  take 
long."  Then  before  Ruth  could  reply  he 
went  on:  "My  father  and  mother  had  two 
sons,  and  I  was  the  older.  We  were  an  old 
Virginia  family  and  had  been  rich  before  the 
war.  I  was  a  good-for-nothing  fellow,  never 
studied,  had  no  ambition  and  used  to  spend 
all  of  my  time  out  of  doors.  My  brother  Ben 
was  a  different  sort,  a  brilliant,  studious  chap, 
and  we  believed  he  would  some  day  restore 
the  family  fortunes.  After  graduating  at 
the  high  school  he  went  to  Richmond  to 
study  law,  but  as  I  had  never  studied  anything 
there  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  get  a 
job  as  clerk  in  a  store  in  our  town.  Both  of 
us  were  boys  at  this  time,  Ben  twenty  and  I 
only  a  little  older.  One  night  pretty  late  I 
was  alone  in  the  store,  and  Ben  appeared, 
saying  he  had  come  down  from  Richmond 
because  he  had  to  have  three  hundred  dollars 
quick,  that  very  night.  Well,  I  knew  that 


"THEIR  LAST  RIDE  TOGETHER."      285 

father  and  mother  and  I  didn't  have  thirty 
dollars  between  us.  Ben  suggested  that  I 
borrow  the  money  from  my  employer,  as  I 
knew  the  combination  of  his  safe.  In  a  few 
days  Ben  was  sure  he  would  have  the  money 
to  pay  back  and  I  could  explain  the  whole 
situation.  I  am  not  excusing  myself,  Ruth. 
I  knew  I  was  sinning  when  I  borrowed  another 
man's  money  without  his  consent.  Ben 
couldn't  pay  back,  and  I  told  the  man  I 
worked  for  what  I  had  done.  I  offered  to 
take  any  punishment  the  law  ordered  and 
then  to  come  back  to  his  shop  and  work  until 
I  paid  him  the  last  cent.  The  man  forgave 
me,  Ruth,  and  was  willing  to  let  me  work  out 
my  salvation;  but  there  was  one  thing  I  had 
not  counted  on,  and  that  was  family  pride. 
When  my  father  and  mother  learned  what  I 
had  done  they  asked  me  to  leave  town, 
change  my  name  and  never  to  come  home 
again." 

"Did  they  know  you  took  the  money  for 
your  brother?"  Ruth  queried. 

Jim  shook  his  head.  "What  was  the  use? 
My  sin  was  just  the  same.  I  paid  the  man 
back  years  ago,  Ruth.  Now  can  you  forgive 
me?" 

"I  am  sorry,  Jim,"  Ruth  answered  kindly, 


286        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

but  in  a^manner  as  remote  from  him  and  his 
need  as  though  she  had  been  a  thousand  miles 
away.  "I  am  sure  you  will  understand,  but 
I  must  take  back  my  promise.  I  can't  be  the 
wife  of  a  man  who  has  done  wrong,  no  matter 
how  much  he  has  repented.  Has  no  one 
ever  known  of  what  you  did  in  all  these 
years?" 

"One  man  besides  Joe  Dawson,  who  is 
the  nephew  of  the  man  from  whom  I  took 
the  money/'  Jim  returned.  "He  was  John 
Ralston.  I  told  him  my  story  a  few  days 
before  he  died  and  he  left  me  the  guardian 
of  his  little  girls,  to  manage  their  property 
until  Jack  is  twenty-one."  And  this  was  the 
only  defense  Jim  Colter  ever  made  for  him 
self. 

By  and  by  he  put  Ruth  down  on  the  porch 
of  the  rancho  and  went  away  to  his  tent  for 
the  night.  In  the  morning  he  had  gone  from 
Rainbow  Ranch  to  attend  to  other  business. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

FAREWELL  TO   THE   RAINBOW   RANCH 

THE  coming  of  late  September  to  the 
neighborhood  of  the  ranch  brought 
with  it  a  storm  and  heavy  down 
pour  of  rain. 

"The  very  clouds  themselves  weep  at  the 
thought  of  our  departure  from  the  Rainbow 
Ranch/ '  Jean  exclaimed  dramatically,  press 
ing  her  piquant  nose  against  the  rain-splashed 
window  of  the  living  room  in  the  Lodge  and 
gazing  out  over  the  mist-dimmed  fields. 

"Does  anybody  know  where  Ruth  is?" 
Jack  inquired  from  a  big  sofa  near  the  fire, 
looking  about  their  beloved  sitting  room  with 
an  expression  of  unfailing  affection.  "She 
must  be  nearly  worn  out  with  packing  and 
getting  us  ready  to  start  to  New  York  to 
morrow.  I  do  wish  she  would  rest  for  a  few 
minutes  these  days." 

"  Ruth  has  gone  for  a  ride  in  the  rain  alone, 
Jack,"  Olive  explained,  stooping  over  her 
friend  and  arranging  her  pillows.  "She  said 

(§87) 


288         RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

she  thought  it  would  do  her  more  good  than 
anything,  and  she  will  stop  by  the  post  box 
at  the  gate  and  bring  us  the  last  mail.  Yes, 
Frieda,  dear,  I  will  help  you  in  a  minute, 
but  please  don't  crowd  any  more  treasures 
into  that  box  or  you  will  have  everything 
smashed  to  bits." 

For  a  moment  Frieda  ceased  her  occupation 
of  jamming  odd-shaped  pieces  of  Indian  pot 
tery  into  a  packing  trunk  filled  with  blankets, 
shawls,  beadwork,  dolls,  Indian  carvings, 
everything  known  to  Indian  manufacture,  and 
surveyed  the  older  girls  reproachfully.  "  Olive, 
I  thought  you  and  Jean  said  that  the  one 
thing  that  would  give  you  pleasure  and  keep 
us  from  just  dying  of  homesickness  would 
be  to  fix  up  an  Indian  sitting  room  at  that 
horrid  old  boarding  school  we  are  going  to  in 
New  York,"  she  protested. 

Riches,  like  everything  else  in  this  world, 
brings  its  responsibilities.  The  ranch  girls 
and  Ruth  Drew  were  to  leave  the  Rainbow 
Ranch  soon  after  daylight  next  morning  for 
the  long  trip  across  the  country  which  was 
to  land  them  in  New  York  City.  Now  that 
the  gold  supply  of  Rainbow  Creek  was  increas 
ing  day  by  day  until  no  one  could  guess  how 
vast  the  amount  would  be,  Jim  Colter  had 


FAKEWELL  TO  RAINBOW  RANCH.    289 

decided  it  would  be  best  for  the  girls  to  leave 
the  ranch.  Jack  was  to  see  a  famous  surgeon, 
hoping  that  he  would  be  able  to  restore  her 
to  health,  for  she  had  not  improved  to  any 
extent  and  was  still  unable  to  walk  or  to  sit 
up  for  any  length  of  time.  The  other  girls 
were  to  be  placed  hi  a  fashionable  boarding 
school  near  a  village  on  the  Hudson  River, 
not  far  from  New  York  City,  and  Jack  was 
to  join  them  when  she  got  well.  No  one 
ever  said  "if"  Jack  got  well;  it  was  always 
"when,"  and  she  always  talked  of  herself  in 
this  way,  for  her  courage  was  yet  undaunted. 

Frank  Kent  was  to  act  as  escort  to  the 
travelers,  as  he  was  returning  soon  to  his 
home  in  England,  and  Ralph  Merrit  was  to  be 
left  as  one  of  the  engineers  in  charge  of  the 
Rainbow  Mine.  Jim  Colter  had  not  been  at 
the  ranch  except  once  and  then  only  for  a 
few  days  since  the  night  of  his  ride  with  Ruth. 

"Goodness,  children,  you  do  look  comfort 
able,"  Ruth  announced,  coming  in  the  door 
at  this  minute,  with  her  coat  and  hat  heavy 
with  rain.  "Here,  Jack,  is  a  letter  in  Jim's 
handwriting.  It  is  a  pretty  thick  one,  so  I 
suppose  he  has  written  to  say  why  he  is  letting 
you  girls  go  away  from  home  without  coming 
to  say  good-by  to  you." 

10 


290        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

Ruth  looked  older  and  a  little  worn,  but 
her  expression  was  cold  and  reserved.  She 
could  not  understand  why  Jim  had  hardly 
seen  or  spoken  to  her  since  their  last  long 
talk;  it  had  never  been  a  part  of  her  plan 
not  to  be  friends  with  him. 

Slowly  Jack  read  the  first  of  her  letter, 
while  Frieda  and  Jean  fairly  danced  with 
impatience  and  Olive  stood  with  her  arm 
about  Carlos,  who  had  crept  in  softly  behind 
Ruth.  The  boy  was  to  stay  behind  at  the 
ranch  with  "The  Big  White  Chief"  he  adored, 
yet  he  was  solemn  and  desolate  at  the  thought 
of  the  departure  of  the  girls. 

"Jim  is  desperately  sorry,  but  he  can't 
get  here  in  time  to  see  us  start  to-morrow," 
Jack  read  slowly.  "Don't  cry,  Frieda.  He 
sends  you  a  dozen  kisses  and  says  you  are 
to  buy  the  biggest  doll  in  New  York  as  soon 
as  you  get  there,  as  a  present  from  him." 

Frieda  sniffed,  her  eyes  brimming  with 
tears.  "Jim's  silly;  I'm  too  big  for  dolls," 
she  answered,  "and  I  just  can't  see  why  he 
don't  come  home!"  She  was  about  to  break 
down  and  cry,  but  Jean  knew  this  would 
mean  the  signal  for  them  all  to  weep,  so 
she  stamped  her  foot  indignantly.  "Frieda 
Ralston,  don't  you  dare  shed  a  tear  for  Jim 


FAREWELL  TO  RAINBOW  RANCH.    291 

Colter  or  any  other  man,' '  she  commanded.  "  If 
Jim  does  not  love  us  enough  to  want  to  say 
good-by  to  us  then  he  can  stay  away.  Come 
on,  baby.  I  can  smell  hot  gingerbread,  so 
let's  get  some.  Aunt  Ellen  thinks  we  are 
going  to  starve  to  death  when  we  leave  the 
Lodge.  Perhaps  we  may  have  to  eat  solid 
gold  food  like  poor  King  Midas,  now  that 
Rainbow  Creek  has  given  us  the  golden 
touch. "  Jean  flitted  from  the  room,  holding 
Frieda's  hand,  and  Olive  and  Carlos  followed. 
When  they  had  gone  Ruth  sat  on  the  floor  in 
front  of  the  fire  near  Jack's  couch,  waiting 
while  she  finished  her  letter. 

By  and  by  Jack  looked  over  at  Ruth 
thoughtfully,  and  there  was  an  expression 
in  her  gray  eyes  that  made  Ruth  suddenly 
shield  her  face  with  her  hand. 
.  "Jim  has  written  me  everything,  Ruth," 
Jack  said.  "Please  don't  be  angry.  He  and  I 
have  been  such  pals  since  I  was  a  little  girl,  and 
he  didn't  want  me  to  go  away  thinking  he  had 
neglected  me  when  I  was  ill.  As  though  I 
would!  Foolish  old  Jim!  He  has  written  me 
too  about  some  wicked  thing  he  did  years 
and  years  ago.  Now  he  thinks  maybe  he 
ought  to  have  told  me  before,  because  I  might 
not  have  wished  him  to  run  the  ranch  and  to 


292        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

take  care  of  our  money  if  I  had  known." 
Jack  was  smiling,  though  the  tears  were  run 
ning  down  her  cheeks.  "And  the  last  thing 
he  writes  is — that  he  won't  be  hurt  if  I  get 
a  man  to  superintend  his  work  and  to  look 
over  his  accounts.  Of  course  Jim  is  willing 
to  continue  to  work  for  us  almost  for  nothing; 
but  now  that  we  are  going  to  be  so  rich  he 
thinks  we  might  like  a  guardian  with  a  differ 
ent  history."  Jack  choked  in  her  effort  to 
pretend  indignation.  "As  though  anything 
Jim  Colter  ever  did  in  the  past  keeps  him 
from  being  the  most  splendid  and  unselfish 
person  in  the  whole  world  now!"  she  ended 
loyally  with  a  look  of  utter  bewilderment  at 
her  companion. 

Ruth  leaned  so  near  the  fire  that  her 
cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes  shone  from  the 
heat  of  the  glowing  ashes.  "Do  you  really 
feel  that  way  about  Jim,  dear?"  she  ques 
tioned  wonderingly.  "I  can't  understand 
it." 

"I  can't  understand  feeling  any  other  way, 
Ruth,"  Jack  answered.  "But  I  know  people 
look  at  things  differently.  And  Jim  said  I  was 
never  to  speak  of  this  to  you  or  to  try  to 
influence  you  in  any  way — so  please  forgive 
me;  I  never  will  again." 


FAREWELL  TO  RAINBOW  RANCH.      293 

i 

Ruth  made  no  reply  and  was  unchanged  in 
her  determination,  although  her  heart  was 
heavy  with  the  thought  of  turning  her  back 
on  the  Rainbow  Ranch  and  all  the  wonderful 
things  it  had  meant  to  her.  They  were  to 
return  she  knew  not  when.  Silently  she 
slipped  away,  and  Jack  Ralston  was  left  alone 
in  the  firelight.  Her  eyes  were  soon  closed, 
and  in  a  little  while  she  must  have  beeii 
dreaming,  for  some  one  touched  her  and  a 
familiar  voice  said  with  a  slow  drawl:  "How 
you  feeling,  boss?" 

Jack  pulled  herself  up  by  catching  at  Jim's 
strong  hands  and  laughed  her  old  gay,  teasing 
laugh.  "You  couldn't  stay  away,  could 
you,  pard?  My,  what  a  bluff  you  are! 
I  suppose  you  guessed  how  furiously  angry 
we  were  with  you  for  not  coming  home  to 
say  good-by." 

Jim  laughed  a  little  huskily.  "You're  right, 
as  usual,  Miss  Ralston.  I  couldn't  let  my  girls 
go  away  off  to  New  York  without  making 
them  promise  to  behave  themselves.  You 
must  not  let  money  and  rich  people  fool  and 
spoil  you  until  you  forget  all  about  the  dear 
old  ranch."  Jim  patted  Jack's  hand  softly. 
"I  wasn't  going  to  play  the  coward  either, 
Jack,  now  it's  come  to  the  point.  I  am 


294        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

going  to  tell  Ruth  good-by  and  wish  her 
good  luck." 

"  Remember  a  motto  I  once  said  I  was 
going  to  take  for  the  Rainbow  Ranch,  Jim?" 
Jack  asked  gravely.  "It  was 'never  say  die/ 
and  if  you  won't  forget  it,  pard,  I  won't." 
And  the  man  and  girl  shook  hands  like  friends 
between  whom  no  other  words  were  necessary. 

Frieda,  coming  back  to  her  sister,  heard 
Jim's  voice  and  raised  the  alarm.  In  the 
midst  of  the  group  of  laughing  and  enthusias 
tic  girls  Ruth  was  able  to  greet  Jim  as  she 
would  have  done  many  months  before. 

The  rain  ceased  and  just  before  an  early 
tea  Jim  lifted  Jack  and  carried  her  out  on 
the  great  porch  in  front  of  Rainbow  Lodge. 
A  giant  rainbow  spanned  the  heavens,  and 
they  wished  to  take  a  farewell  of  their  beloved 
ranch  with  the  arch  of  promise  above  them. 

"See,  Frieda,  dear,"  Jack  called  gayly, 
"the  rainbow  does  dip  into  the  creek  where 
we  found  our  pot  of  gold.  I  told  you  it 
ended  on  our  place,  and  that's  why  father 
gave  it  the  name  of  'The  Rainbow  Ranch.'" 

Frieda  shook  her  head,  not  being  gifted 
with  a  vivid  imagination.  "I  can't  see  it, 
sister,"  she  argued  seriously.  "The  rainbow 
just  slips  off  in  the  sky  somewhere.  But  I  know 


FAREWELL  TO  RAINBOW  RANCH.    295 

a  verse  of  poetry  that  Ruth  taught  me. 
Would  you  like  me  to  say  it?" 

Everybody  nodded  with  their  eyes  resting 
lovingly  on  the  beautiful  rain-washed  fields 
of  the  ranch,  shining  now  with  a  new,  colorful 
beauty  from  the  reflected  glory  in  the  heavens. 

Frieda  walked  out  in  the  yard  facing  her 
audience,  her  long  blond  pigtails  quivering 
with  the  importance  of  her  position,  and  her 
turquoise  eyes  shining  with  interest.  Quite 
unconscious  of  her  small  self,  with  her  gaze 
fastened  on  Jack,  she  raised  one  dimpled 
arm,  reciting  proudly: 

"0  beautiful  rainbow,  all  woven  of  light! 
There's  not  in  thy  tissue  one  shadow  of  night; 
Heaven  surely  is  open  when  thou  dost  appear, 
And  bending  above  thee,  the  angels  draw  near 
And  sing:  'The  Rainbow!  The  Rainbow! 
The  smile  of  God  is  here.'" 

The  next  book  in  this  series  devoted  to  the 
histories  of  the  ranch  girls  will  find  them  living 
in  a  totally  new  environment.  How  they 
are  to  enjoy  the  life  of  a  fashionable  boarding 
school;  how  their  unconventional  ideas  will 
influence  their  school  mates;  what  effect  their 
sudden  possession  of  great  wealth  will  have 
upon  them,  and  whether  Jack  will  find  her 


296        RANCH  GIRLS'  POT  OF  GOLD. 

health,  Olive  her  parentage,  and  what  will 
develop  for  Ruth,  must  be  told  in  a  third 
volume  to  be  entitled  :  "The  Ranch  Girls 
at  Boarding  School." 


The  Ranch  Girls  Series 

The  first  volume  of  this  series  is  entitled 
''The  Ranch  Girls  at  Rainbow  Lodge."  "The 
Ranch  Girls'  Pot  of  Gold"  is  the  second 
volume  of  the  series.  The  story  of  the  four 
"Ranch  Girls"  continues  along  lines  of  con 
stantly  increasing  interest,  and  the  change  of 
scene  accomplished  in  the  third  volume  of  the 
series,  "The  Ranch  Girls  at  Boarding  School," 
shows  them  in  a  new  and  strange  environment. 
How  they  bring  the  ideals  and  standards  of 
the  big  open  West  to  the  solution  of  many  of 
their  problems  in  this  new  field  creates  a  story 
even  more  absorbingly  interesting  than  either 
of  its  predecessors. 


